A Corruption Dark & Deadly (A Dark & Deadly Series Book 3)

by Heather C. Myers

  She was in shock. He said as much and she knew from her brief education in psychology and how her body reacted to stress. She had thought she would have been able to process a lot better than she currently was; she thought she would be able to understand the logistics of what happened and why it happened. But even now, in her home, she still found it hard to breathe.

  Jericho eased her into the bath he had drawn for her fully clothed.

  "The dress," she managed to get out, even though that statement by itself wasn't logical either, considering the blood nullified ruining the dress even more.

  "I'll buy you another one," he told her. His eyes were a fierce sort of green. They weren't hard or mean; they were intense and offered a guarantee that nothing would ever happen to her while she was with him. She had no idea why she believed the promise but she did. "I'll buy you three more if that would make you feel better."

  Annie pressed her lips together and nodded in acknowledgment. As she eased into the large tub, she noticed the transparent liquid start to turn pink. She turned her attention to Jericho, who was sliding off his shoes and pulling off his socks. When he finished, he crawled in with her, fully clothed minus his shoes and socks. Her brows shot up but she couldn't vocalize her concerns for his clothes. They didn't have blood splatter on him the way she did; he could have salvaged his clothes if he wanted to. He looked at her, telling her not to worry, that he didn't care one way or the other about his clothes.

  "I need you to tell me what you're feeling," he said in a clear, calm voice. Already, Annie could feel herself relax but whether that was because of Jericho or if it was because of the hot water, she couldn't be sure. "I need you to focus on me and let me know how I can help you."

  Annie blinked. He was right.

  "My heart is beating fast," she told him, placing her hand over her chest, as though to remind herself how her body was reacting. "It has been since he was-" She couldn't finish the sentence and Jericho clenched his jaw so tightly that it popped. He didn't seem angry with her or because of her inability to speak but at the thought that something like this had happened to her in the first place. "I'm shivering even though I'm not cold."

  Jericho nodded. "Of course," he told her. "All perfectly normal responses."

  Annie nodded along with him.

  “I’m going to reach out and hold your hand,” he told her. He was talking to her as though she was a child, but she knew it wasn’t out of disrespect. If anything, he wanted to be certain she was comfortable with him touching her in the first place. “Is that all right with you?”

  Annie hesitated. Not because he made her uncomfortable but because he was being so… perfect. She could feel her guard start to come down because of him, because of how he was treating her. It was hard to look at him like a man who had just killed someone, even though that was exactly what he had done. To save her.

  She nodded, however. He didn’t look offended when she took a moment to think. He simply waited for her approval, a serious look on his face. Once he got the okay, he reached out and took her hand from where it was – crossed over her chest and cupping her opposite forearm – and entwined his fingers with hers. It sent a jolt through her body, bringing her back down to earth.

  “May I have your other hand?” Jericho asked, offering her his to take.

  Annie reached out and gave it to him. He did the same thing with her fingers, lacing them through his. The water started to fill the porcelain bathtub – a nice investment her parents put into their house and probably her favorite thing about the house – and Jericho only let go of one hand to fiddle with the faucet before holding her again.

  “Tell me about yourself,” he said, his voice low and calm.

  “What.” Annie blinked. “What do you want to know?”

  “Tell me your favorite color,” he said with a smile.

  Annie tilted her head at the simplicity of the sentence but she answered it nonetheless. “Purple,” she said slowly. “Because purple always represented royalty and ever since I was little, I wanted to be a princess.”

  “You would make an excellent princess,” he said. “Your birthday?”

  “October twenty-second,” she replied.

  “What type of guy do you find yourself attracted to?” he asked.

  Her eyes shot into his. This was a dangerous question and he knew it.

  “Why do you want to know that?” she asked quietly.

  “Because I want to get to know you better,” he returned. “Talking about serious topics help divert attention away from serious topics. The question, while serious, is also selfish. I want to know if I’m your type.”

  “I don’t have a type,” she murmured. “I just… can we talk about what happened?”

  “Absolutely.” He seemed surprised by her question, pushing his brow high. “I wasn’t sure if that was a topic you wanted to broach.”

  “You shot a man,” she stated, still surprised by this fact. “I saw a man die. He died… on top of me.”

  “Yes.” Jericho nodded once.

  “How were you able to do that without thinking twice about it?” she asked. This was what she couldn’t seem to get over.

  She could see the scene replay over and over in her head. She knew she would dream about it for the next several months. How could Jericho take a life without thinking twice about it? Even though the man was hurting her, Jericho made it seem like killing was easy. Perhaps he hadn’t intended it for it to come across this way, but it did and she couldn’t seem to understand how.

  “I saw him on top of you,” he replied seriously. “I saw you were in distress. He knew you came with me. I made sure to make it no secret that I was with you. That, alone, should warn people off, but sometimes, the fact that they can’t have something makes them want it more. Maybe he had an issue with me and was using you to get to me. Maybe he saw something lovely and wouldn’t take no for an answer. His reasoning means nothing to me. The fact that he was on top of you without your consent was enough for me to kill him.”

  “But-“

  “There is no but,” he told her. He was short with her but not to be mean. More like to insist that he was being serious. “You are someone I care about. I would kill for those I care about. Especially you.” He reached out and traced the curves of her face with his fingerprint. The touch was so soft, like a butterfly’s wing, and yet she still felt as though he had somehow tattooed his fingerprint to her skin.

  “And besides,” he continued, sitting back against his side of the tub. “People need to learn that they cannot mess with me or my loved ones.”

  Her eyes shot to his. “You love me?” she asked.

  “Are you surprised?” he returned.

  “You don’t even know me,” she said after sputtering.

  “I don’t have to know you to love you,” he told her. “The minute I laid eyes on you, I was yours. In that moment, I knew you had me. Your big hazel eyes, your long, blonde hair. You look so innocent.” He touched her face again. Annie felt herself lean into the touch whether she wanted to or not. It just felt… right. “I knew I had to be around you. I wanted to know more about you.”

  Her eyes dropped to the water, now a darker pink. She noticed that the knots in her back had all but vanished. She felt more refreshed, more relaxed. When she looked up, she saw the transparent material of his collared shirt cling to his body, revealing his peachy flesh through it. Jesus, he was beautiful, with broad shoulders and a toned torso. She swallowed and forced herself to look away.

  “There’s blood everywhere,” she told him. “I just want it to go away.”

  He nodded, not saying anything. Instead, he took her hand and placed it on his shoulder. From there, he turned to the nearby sink and grabbed a loofa and soap. Once the soap was lathered into the loofa, he took her hand back in his and slowly began to scrub her skin gently.

  The water got more and more pink while her skin was free from blood. In fact, though he was gentle when he scrubbed, her skin felt r
aw. But that was what she wanted. She wanted to be clean. Once she was done with the bath, she planned to stand up and shower.

  When he was finished washing one arm, he dropped the loofa into the tub and brought it up to his lips. She watched in awe as his lips pressed against the inside of her wrist, just where her pulse was beating frantically against her skin. It sent a jolt, straight to her heart. Her brow wrinkled as it pushed up; she watched him move his lips upward so they could press against her palm. Another jolt sent straight to her pelvis.

  This was dangerous.

  Especially considering the way he was looking at her. That pale green turned into forest green as he watched her watch him. She swallowed but it did nothing to moisten her throat. She was doomed.

  When he brought the pad of her thumb between his lips and sucked just enough to put pressure on her skin, she let out a small gasp, her eyes going wide. This was too much. How was this too much when he barely even touched her? Why did she feel so damn exposed when they were both fully clothed? His brow pushed up at her reaction, but he didn’t stop. Instead, he tested his luck even more. Rather than release her thumb from his mouth, he flickered his tongue against her pad. Her eyes widened. She still did not pull away.

  He moved onto her index finger and did the same thing. He kissed it, sucked it, and flicked his tongue against the pad. And then, he put it in his mouth. His lips puckered against her skin, protecting her from his teeth, but his tongue danced around her finger, like it was cleansing her. And maybe it was.

  She didn’t realize she had been leaning forward until some of the bath water sloshed out of the tub. The sudden noise didn’t stop her, though. It just brought greater attention to her movement but that didn’t stop her. It was as though she needed to see what he was doing at a closer angle because she couldn’t quite believe what she was feeling.

  And then, he looked up and made a decision. She could read it in his eyes before he did it, but in that moment, she knew he was going to kiss her.

  Jericho dropped her hand so it fell back into the water but he reached out to grip the back of Annie's head with long fingers. He tilted her head back and placed a soft but intimate kiss on her lips. This wasn't a friendly kiss, nor was it gentlemanly. It was both sweet and seductive simultaneously and it didn't end right away.

  Annie's eyes rolled back and she opened her mouth just slightly on her own accord. He didn't force anything; she simply reacted to his kiss and allowed her body to take her. She reached her hand up to clutch his face and the slight stubble on his face was rough against her skin like sand paper.

  He pulled away from her for just a moment.

  "You kissed me back," he murmured, tracing her bottom lip with his thumb. He seemed awed by this, almost as though he didn't quite believe it had happened.

  To be honest, she didn't believe it happened. She didn't believe she had kissed him back. She dropped her hand from his face and curled damp hair behind her hair, nodding her head.

  "I did," she agreed, picking her eyes up to look him in the eye. "I kissed you back."

  "I'm going to kiss you again," he told her, his eyes dropping to her lips. She had no idea why, but the look in his eyes seemed to highlight his sharp cheekbones and it was hard for her to think of something more beautiful than Jericho fully wet looking at her with both lust and adoration in those gorgeous green eyes.

  "Okay," she replied because she couldn't find any other words to say except an affirmative response and she didn't move when he leaned forward and captured her lips with his own.

  This kiss was less gentle and more passionate. It was one that was staking a claim, marking territory, and taking possession. His tongue slid into her mouth like it belonged there, like he owned the place, and from the way she opened up her mouth to receive him, he probably did. She couldn't really think about the fact that those hands that had pulled the trigger, ending someone's life, were now caressing her shoulder, holding the back of her head. She didn't understand why she wasn't afraid of him, why she would allow him to touch her in this way, to kiss her in this way. And she realized that he had killed for her and she never knew she was worth killing for to anyone outside her immediate family. He was protecting her: she had seen his cold eyes, his tight mouth, but when he looked at her, that was gone. Vanished into the night like the stars and moon when the sun pierced the sky.

  And that made her want him more than she really did. Because he was willing to do that for her, barely knowing her at all, and yet seeing her as this special being, this angelic entity worth risking everything for, and she didn't understand, couldn't understand, but maybe she didn't need to. Maybe that was okay. And maybe it made her fall a little bit in love with him.

  His tongue danced inside her mouth to music only he could hear. Her eyes were shut but she could still see with her hands, with her skin, with her smell, with her ears. Jericho was surprisingly quiet during a kiss. Besides the sticky sounds of tongue dueling with tongue, he kept his noise to himself, which both disappointed her and challenged her. She liked knowing that what she did was pleasing to him, that he was feeling similar to what he was making her feel. Which meant that if he was this quiet when she really did something worth gasping or grunting or morning for, he would make some kind of noise indicating as such.

  Which meant she needed to do something to get him to that point.

  She nearly blinked, wondering why she cared in the first place, why she needed to hear him moan because of something she did. Just before this evening, she had successfully kept him at a distance, despite his ability to be... nice. Sweet. Two character traits she hadn't expected from him. Sensual, yes. Seductive and dangerous and intimidating, all yes. But sweet? Genuine? She had no idea. Even now, she still didn't think this was real. She didn't think that he genuinely cared about her.

  He literally killed someone for you, a voice in her head pointed out. If that doesn't scream affection of some sort, I don't know what does.

  How could she argue with that?

  When they broke apart for air, Annie didn't waste any time. She moved closer to him so she could place her lips on his neck. His eyes closed and he tilted his head, giving her better access to the column of his throat. She inched closer to him so she all but sat in his lap. Her tongue swirled against his skin and she tasted the odd sensation of blood. Immediately, she pulled away and realized Jericho still had flecks of blood from the shooting. Her eyes widened, locking with Jericho. He stared back, his eyes hooded and dark, like he knew exactly why she stopped.

  And then, she leaned forward and proceeded to continue to trail her tongue up and down his throat, licking up the stray blood and Jericho's sweat and feeling her body shudder with her own actions.

  "Jesus Christ," he muttered in a husky tone.

  He placed his hand on the back of her head and gripped it, not tight enough to hurt her but just tight enough to catch her attention and pull her away from his neck.

  "You need to stop," he told her. "Because once we cross that line, I won't be able to." He traced her bottom lip with his thumb once more, his gaze intense as he regarded her lips with more than mild interest. Just his stare gave her goosebumps. "I'm a nice guy. I'm sweet and charming and a gentleman. But something happens to me when I make love. I'm not gentle or nice. I take and take and I promise I will bring you to your knees and make you scream my name. But it will hurt. You will be mine in every way and I will no longer be able to control myself around you."

  "I don't want you to," she told him in a soft voice.

  He clenched his jaw and nodded his head. “I want our first time in a bed,” he told her. “We’ll probably be more adventurous once we get to know each other better, but, for now, I want to experience you in a bed. Like normal lovers. But, I want to make it clear, I’m not typical. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was little more than a whisper. “We’ll be doing it more than once?”

  He seemed puzzled by her question. “Of course we will,” he told her. “Wh
y would you think otherwise?”

  “It’s no secret that you go through dates,” Annie said, using a nice way to phrase lover. She had no idea what he did with them when they weren’t out in public and, quite frankly, it wasn’t any of her business. However, it was no secret, Jericho wasn’t the type to settle down, and just because he killed a man for her didn’t mean he was ready to commit to her. “I just, I’m not asking for you to be my boyfriend but I’d like to know what to expect from you.”

  “Don’t compare yourself to anyone who came before,” he told her seriously, his eyes capturing hers in a way that indicated he didn’t plan to release them anytime soon. “They mean nothing now, they did not mean anything then. You… I have felt nothing until I met you. I would like to have you as mine on a consistent basis because I am drawn to you the way a moth is drawn to a flame. I will not give you up. So, to answer your question, I want you. All of you. In every way. For as long as you’ll let me have you. There will be more times. Many more times. Sometimes, in the same day. And whenever you want. But only with you.”

  Annie swallowed and nodded her head. Jericho stood up abruptly and stepped out of the bathtub, completely soaked. He didn’t seem to care that the bath water, which was now lukewarm rather than hot, sloshed over the side of the porcelain bathtub and soaked the wooden floor beneath his feet.

  Her eyes widened as she took the sight of him in – the transparent white collared shirt that clung to those broad shoulders and muscled arms, the black slacks that clung to his legs like a second skin, his tousled golden brown hair.

  He was impossibly beautiful.

  Once he was out, he turned to her and offered her his hand. She stood up, the dress was completely ruined, completely transparent. Somehow, Jericho‘s eyes were on her face rather than on her body. He seemed completely satisfied with this, as if her face was enough to stare at, and she felt as though she was placing her entire heart in his hand.

  He swept her up in his arms and proceeded to lead her to the bedroom he slept in rather than hers. She wasn’t cold, not with the heater constantly thrumming with warmth. She wasn’t sure if he opted to take her to the master bedroom because it was bigger or if it was out of respect for her, not sure she wanted him to even step in her room yet, despite the progress they were making in their relationship.