Further down, when asked about who tried to kill her, Kirsten says: “I believe the officers who shot at me and injured the man I love were sent by someone trying to avoid justice. I would just like to warn that individual that the best outcome they can possibly hope for now is that they’re arrested and tried to the fullest extent of the law.”
“Holy shit.” The woman is insane for putting all this out in the world, for telling everyone she’s in a relationship withme, and threatening a fate worse than prison for the asshole responsible.
And I love her so fucking much for it. I’m not sure if there’s enough room in my body to contain it all.
“Morning,” Kirsten says softly from the pillow next to mine. “How are you feeling? Any pain?”
“No, sweetheart. I’m not feeling an ounce of pain.”
“Then come back to bed,” she says with a smile as her eyes close again.
I don’t have to be told twice.
Kirsten wouldn’t have made such a huge decision if she wasn’t planning on sticking around for the long run with me.
But I already know that even forever isn’t long enough for the two of us.
EPILOGUE
Kirsten
It turns out that people love a good Romeo and Juliet story because my approval ratings have never been better. My father sounded sick to admit as much over the phone. I can’t wait for Tristan to meet him and my mother.
While there are still some assholes who call me a mafia slut or worse behind my back in the office, most are too scared of my boyfriend to say a word.
And thankfully, since I went public with our relationship, Bowen Bertelli hasn’t sent any more men to try and kill me.
Not that Tristan leaves my side long enough for one to land a shot.
He doesn’t just sit in his truck outside the courthouse anymore; he comes in to visit, watches my trials, and even tags along to my lunches with campaign donors. Apparently, there are plenty of rich jackasses who like having a contact in the mob to handle the occasional dirty deeds for them.
Speaking of dirty deeds… “We need to hurry. And only one orgasm for me,” I tell Tristan when we sneak out into the dark alley behind Rosi’s. The February night is unseasonably warm in the city, which makes outside a much better option than the bathroom for a quickie. Tristan is so distracting that no smells or grime will deter us when the mood strikes. Which it does often. I can’t even remember all the places we’ve fooled around the past few weeks.
“Just one orgasm?” he huffs as he spins me around so I’m facing the wall. My palms flatten on the cool, abrasive bricks. “You sure about that? I bet I can give you three in less than five minutes.”
“No. Just one. I need to be awake for the meeting with your cousins and Serafina.”
“Fine,” he says against my ear. “I’ll save the rest for when we get home tonight.”
Home. His apartment that’s now ours.
I haven’t slept at my place since the night before the attack, and I don’t miss it. It’s now up for sale, since Tristan convinced me to bring all my things over to his place rather than having to keep running back and forth for my clothes and shoes.
I agreed to the arrangement after he replaced all the furniture the prostitutes slept or did other things on.
Tristan hikes up the back of my black dress, tugs down my matching panties for me to step out of, and then wastes no time slipping his fingers inside of me. They feel a little too good, though. “Enough of that. I’m already close.”
“Fuck, okay. Hold on.”
I hear his zipper go down and then rise onto my toes as he rubs himself through my wetness. Or at least, I thought it was his dick before he shoves something much smaller into my ass. “Tristan!” I cry out in surprise. At the same time, he slams inside me. “Oh, God. Oh…wow…” I trail off as he clutches myhips tight enough to bruise, fucking me hard and fast like he hates me.
“You like being double-stuffed?”
I nod and rest my forehead on the back of my hand as I adjust to all the penetration.
“You know what we’re doing later tonight, right?”
“Popping…my…cherry?” I guess.
