I couldn’t ever be with a weak-willed woman. I want one who is as tough as fucking nails when it comes to what she wants. She’s got that in her, I can see it. I just need to direct her wants and needs to line up with my own.

Slowing down to find the house that Lucifer and Simon have set up for me, I have to force myself to internalize the fucking laugh bubbling up inside me as I pull into the driveway. It’s a huge fucking house in one of the more affluent neighborhoods.

This place is fucking big, and I guess some would call it attractive. If this is one of the normal-sized safe houses, as Lucifer put it, I want to see the fucking big ones.

Fuck me, they’ve got me in the fucking Ritz practically.

It’s definitely a far cry from the roach motel I holed myself in last night. I figured I didn’t need a house for just me. Didn’t deserve anything really. But with Meghan by my side… I need more. I need things for someone besides myself.

Pushing the button for the garage door, I watch as it slowly opens up to reveal my new truck. It’s a pretty nice garage, even if it’s void of anything except our two vehicles. Meghan’s going to need something to drive eventually, and I’m not giving her my truck, so she gets this behemoth SUV.

Meghan moans quietly in her sleep as I lift her up out of the seat. Tucking her head under my chin, I’m struck by how damn small she is in my arms. I like it. Not going to lie about it. She’s small and fucking meaty in the right places. I love how her ass pops out of the black dress Lily loaned her. Her fucking curves make my mouth water.

She’s a hot bundle of sexuality. Fuck. I can feel myself getting hard just holding her this close. Her hair smells like fucking heaven.

Walking through the house, I curse my long strides as I want to spend as much time with her in my arms as possible. The thought of setting her down is almost unbearable. But when I finally find a room on the second floor that feels safe and secure away from my animalistic cravings, I know it’s for the best.

Removing her heels, I drop them to the floor. No need for her to sleep in those torture devices. Fuck, I bet she’s even shorter than me now that they’re off.

Staring down at her body, my eyes slowly trail up to those beautiful lips and my heart starts to pound in my chest. I kissed those plump lips and it fucking felt like something I didn’t deserve.

Nothing as good as her should be near something like me.

Shutting off the lights, I head back the way I came. After today, I need a shower and a beer.


Warmth surrounds me. As I come to, I realize I’ve somehow been cocooned in a soft, fuzzy blanket.

At first, I don’t want to wake up. I’m warm, comfortable, and so very tired. It feels as if I haven’t slept in weeks.

But then the memories rush over me like a bucket of ice water.

I’m not home, I’m not safe.

Oh shit, where am I?

I struggle to sit up, fighting off the blanket wrapped around me. Once I have the blanket kicked off, my eyes strain against the darkness.

It takes my eyes several seconds to adjust, and I can only make out that I’m in a room, on a big bed. The first thing I do is stick my hands out and check the bed beside me.

It’s empty.

Next, I check myself. All my clothes are in place. The only thing I seem to be missing is my shoes, and maybe a little bit of my sanity.

I breathe a sigh of relief, grateful that Gabriel didn’t fuck with me in my sleep. He had every opportunity. I must have been dead to world if I didn’t wake up when he carried me here from the car. I didn’t even wake up when he tucked that blanket around me.

Speaking of Gabriel… where is he?

The need to know has me carefully sliding out of the bed. My toe bumps into something hard and it takes me a second to figure out that it must be my shoe. Nudging the shoes out of the way, my bare feet sink into a soft carpet.

Good. The carpet will make it easier to sneak around without getting caught.

Slowly, quietly, I make my way to the door.

When I finally reach it, I find myself holding my breath as I try the handle, half-expecting it to be locked.

Thank fucking god, it’s not.

The handle gives easily, and I almost can’t believe it. Why didn’t he lock me in? Does he want me to escape?

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