Perfect Love

by Addison Moore

  “Of course. It’ll be far more official that way.” Her tongue runs over the rim of her lips, and I try to catch it with my teeth. “Looks like someone’s in a biting mood.” Her hips nest into mine. “You’re a big flirt, you know that?”

  “Technically, I believe you’re the one flirting.” I grind my hips right back at her, and my hard-on rockets to life.

  A deep guttural laugh bursts from her as my dick grazes over her bottom.

  Skyla swipes a condom from the bowl and runs the foil packet across her lips. Her eyes never leaving mine. She runs the package between her teeth before tearing it.

  “I want you to open your mind, Logan. I want to drink down your thoughts. I want to have every single part of you in my heart and body right now.”

  She rolls the condom over me then straddles me while sitting on my stomach. Her hair tumbles over her chest like a golden waterfall.

  Skyla guides me in careful and easy, her eyes locked over mine, and for the life of me, I can’t find the strength to blink. I don’t want to miss a minute of what’s about to transpire.

  She lets me penetrate her slowly, sinking over me with her neck thrust back, a strangled cry ripping from her throat.

  Fuck.

  Skyla rides me undaunted by the harsh band of sunlight streaming through the windows as I watch with slotted lids—the two of us drunk off our love. Her body rises and falls, her curves bouncing in all the right places, and I try to strangle the shit out of that part of me that wants to cry because deep down I understand all of this is going to come crashing to an end soon. It doesn’t diminish the hope that it won’t. It doesn’t bother to contest it. It merely exists as a fact.

  Believe.

  Then like a lion I roar back from the pit—spring out of the mud and the mire and pull up into the sunshine, high into the clouds right along with Skyla. A surge of adrenaline fills me as I pull Skyla toward me and find her lips. I roll her onto her back and make love to her, sweetly like the princess she is.

  Skyla and I are going to happen. Happily ever after waits for us, and I believe it with every fiber of my being. My soul glows from the knowledge.

  I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. I pick up her hands and extend them up past her shoulders while my body moves slowly inside hers.

  I remember the first day we met—in the bowling alley. The world faded, and there was only you and me. She lends a kiss to my cheek. You plus me—I like how simple the math is.

  Skyla and I employ our Celestra strength and make love like tigers for the next several hours, enduring far longer than any human ever could, creating an irrevocable bond between us that can never be broken, not by the Decision Council—not by death. What we’re experiencing is sublime, heartbreakingly beautiful—two shattered hearts repairing themselves under the careful guide of our bodies. Skyla and I were making a memory—a miracle—a living testament that ensured a future between the two of us.

  Sometimes you just need to look death in the face and say fuck you.

  Skyla and I are going to live out that happily ever after of ours, right here on earth, alive and in the flesh.

  Skyla believes it, and so do I.

  A spark surges from her body to mine, and we electrify the bed as the sun goes down. The candles rekindle themselves as if on cue while Skyla and I engage in our private slow dance over those sheets.

  I’m already in paradise.

  This is the only important event in the world.

  Skyla and I are going to have it all—we are unstoppable.

  What do we have to do to stay together, Logan? She asks as my body writhes over hers.

  We have to take down death—just like we took down the Counts.

  She bubbles a soft laugh into my mouth. Then that’s what we’ll do.

  5

  Winter Song

  Day three. The moonlight streams into the room and lights us up like a couple of poltergeists. Skyla is a jewel illuminating the night, and, good thing, because those candles Dudley laid out all over the room have long since turned into a solid puddle of wax. Their wicks spent, like some necrotic prophecy staring me in the face.

  I take up her hand in mine and kiss it.

  The sun rises and falls, straining its citrus hues through the windows before the stars host the night sky, and the Colosseum lights up like a relic from some other planet.

  I smile over at her. Skyla has let down all her walls and so have I.

  “You sure you don’t want to see the city?” I run my fingers over her glowing hip and try to decide which part of her I want to take a bite out of first. My hand swims between her legs and into that heated slick that stays wet and ready just for me.

  She gives a coy smile.

  The mini fridge is just about empty. We’ve lived off room service and kisses. Logan and I have feasted off our love for three days straight. I’ve become inebriated off the deep well of his love, our tongues traveling every inch of one another, the touch of his skin gliding over mine, the incredible way my body responds to his, it’s all too wonderful to comprehend. All of the heat, the primal lust, every sound that wrenched from his throat I’ve treasured. These were the golden moments—the sweetest desserts that life had to offer.

  I’m right there with her. There couldn’t have been a better send off. She cuts a quick glance to me, so I change the subject.

  “So why did she do it?” I pull her in until her hot skin sears against mine like a branding iron. “Why did Chloe arrange for Stella Landon to die? Why take out Ethan?”

  “Chloe had Demetri lay out what he knew about the future long before I came to Paragon. And, apparently, everything he knew was bogus.”

  “Which was?”

  “That Stella Landon’s firstborn child was destined to be the most powerful Nephilim on the planet. That he was going to wage a faction war and win.”

  “Doesn’t make sense.”

  The sunset just outside our window, sprays the room in tangerines and gold. Logan glows with an unearthly tan that makes him look as if he belongs in a magazine, a billboard for the entire world to see.

  “Chloe got the wrong information,” she whispers. “It was my father’s firstborn child who would be the most powerful Nephilim—it was me who waged the faction war and won. My mother knew the danger I was in. Maybe she was trying to keep one step in front of Demetri? She created a future so taxing, so wrapped up in the past that Demetri couldn’t keep the facts straight. Chloe was nothing but a ruse. My mother created two paths, one real and one fake. She made Chloe look so believable, Demetri was led astray. And I think maybe Stella was a ruse, too.” She takes in a quick breath. “That’s all I know. I wasn’t really probing my mother too hard on the subject. I had just enough info to get that protective hedge back, and that’s really all I wanted.”

  “What’s the deal with Emerson?” I bury a kiss into her belly button, and her insides quiver beneath me. I wish I could feel that always—Skyla quivering into me, trembling for my touch. She holds my head down in this position, so I run my tongue in a circle over her belly until she relents.

  “Emerson has a full confession to Ethan’s murder in a safe bolted in her closet back at the Kragger’s estate.” She pulls me up next to her. “Emerson never trusted Chloe. She didn’t think she’d kill her, though.”

  My head falls back on the pillow, and I just stare up at the ceiling, taking in smooth, even breaths, trying to digest everything she’s just filled me in on. The truth is finally out. My truth, Chloe’s ugly, murderous truths—best of all, Skyla has the protective hedge, and I couldn’t have asked for anything more than that.

  But why did I have to die? Why is Dudley in her life at all? Why not extend the hell out of my Treble?

  “There are still so many unanswered questions.” I blow it out in a breath. “I guess you can ask your mom another time if you’re interested.”

  “I am, but I was most interested in what she said about you.” She bites down on her lip so hard, I’m afraid
she’s going to draw blood.

  I give the hint of a nod. “I want you to burn my body, Skyla.”

  “No,” she hisses it out so fast it’s obvious she won’t do it. “Never.”

  “The Counts can steal it.” I secure my fingers over hers once again and bear into her with all of the pleading my eyes can afford. I can’t trust being away from it even for a moment. I can still come back, Skyla. Nothing is impossible with God. “It won’t change things between you and me.” I tuck a kiss over her pale shoulder. “Promise me you’ll do this.”

  Skyla doesn’t say a word. She tosses up that mental barrier, and I’m in the doghouse again where her thoughts are concerned.

  I don’t want to be shut out. Not when the clock is ticking, five minutes to midnight.

  She gives a slight nod, but her eyes say she doesn’t mean it.

  “What are you thinking?” I give her hand a little shake to let her know she doesn’t have to physically verbalize it to tell me, but Skyla doesn’t give in. She’s holds her thoughts back like a floodgate determined to keep the people in its wake safe from the prospect of drowning in them, and that person is me.

  “When will I see you again?”

  “I’ll always be your Elysian, Skyla. I’ll always be thinking about you, loving you even while we’re apart.” I swallow hard. “The rest is up to your mother.”

  She cuts a look out the window that spells an evisceration to her mother far more than words can.

  “Hey”—I scoot in until we’re lying side by side, our stomachs almost touching—“I’m still here. We still have tonight.”

  Skyla squeezes my hand like she might fall down if I let go. She holds my gaze, and I have every intention of keeping my eyes glued over hers.

  “I will always love you, Logan Oliver.” She takes in an unexpected breath. “Nothing, and no one, will ever change that.”

  “I love you, too.” A smile tries to form on my lips but doesn’t quite make it. “Come here, princess.” I brush a kiss over her mouth, careful and slow as if she were made of the most fragile blown glass. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do this.” I glance down at our naked bodies pressed tight in all the right places, and realize I can never repay her for the gift she’s given me.

  “Are you kidding? This is the highlight of my life.”

  “Then, by all means, don’t let me deny you.” A lewd grin twitches on my lips as I whip the sheets right off the bed.

  Skyla’s chest rumbles with a laugh as she crashes those glorious lips over mine again.

  My hands run down her back, sinking further to her bare bottom, and I round out her delicious curves before diving my hand between her legs again.

  Skyla’s entire body vibrates with a moan as my tongue swipes over hers. I spend the next several hours pouring a fire from my mouth to hers.

  It’s bliss like this with Logan, if only for a little while.

  The room fills with a permeable fog that I can feel, and taste, and touch. Skyla lies folded in my arms as Dudley appears next to me. It’s only then I note I’m actually standing beside the bed in addition to laying in it. I guess that’s the final pony trick that death likes to pull. It lets you observe yourself in that final moment as you search to digest this new bit of shit news.

  “Are you ready?” Dudley rumbles, and his voice makes every part of me vibrate in some weird perverse way.

  “Turn that crap down,” I whisper, reaching over and caressing my fingers across Skyla’s cheek, trying not to wake her.

  “Language. And no need to worry, you won’t startle her. She can no longer hear or see you.”

  “She can see my corpse.” I watch as my body evaporates from underneath her, and I want to break every damn thing in this room because I’ve truly left Skyla alone in the world, in Rome no less. “We can’t leave her here.”

  “I agree. The Oliver home should suffice.”

  “She needs clothes. Maybe that dress…” I try to figure out where her wedding dress could have ended up. The last three days swept by in a dizzying blur, and suffice it to say, clothes were our least priority.

  “The dress is not an option. It had properties. I’ll put her in street clothes.”

  “My team jersey, my sweats.” I nod into the idea as bona fide tears stream down my face. Who knew you could cry on the other side.

  “Go ahead.” Dudley motions to her. “Gift her one last kiss.”

  I blow out a breath before bowing into her. It takes all of my strength to hover over her like this and not take her one more time. My heart, my body, and soul all ache for her with a bitter intensity, and we haven’t truly been separated yet.

  “Skyla,” I whisper into her ear, hoping to God she’ll somehow hear me. “I love you more than the heavens love the sun and the moon,” the words choke from my throat like barbed wire. “You’ll always be my princess. We fought the angelic war, and we fought the beautiful war—the one with our hearts. I know we’ll win both.” My tears drip down over her skin and dissipate as quick as a vapor. “I’m going to make my way back to you. I don’t how, or when, but I promise you this—I swear on all that is holy I will make it happen. It isn’t over for us. I know this much is true.” I press a kiss over her lips, and the room shifts and spins until we’re back on Paragon, in my bedroom.

  I pull back from the kiss as Skyla nestles into my bed, blissfully asleep, unaware of what’s just transpired—her cheeks still flush with the efforts of my love.

  “What happens now?” I look up at Dudley, good and pissed.

  “I dress her.”

  “Let me.”

  “Afraid not.” He’s already rummaging through my drawers and quickly pulls out my sweats triumphant. I pick up my team jersey from off the floor, and he yanks it from me. “Your desires are heavy. You’ll want to make love to her. I’m afraid that’s strictly forbidden. It’s something akin to necrophilia, and, in this instance, you’d be the corpse.”

  “Great.” He’s right though. I land my lips over her cheek and pepper a trail of soft kisses all the way to her ear. “I will move heaven and earth to make love to you again, Skyla. Sleep tight, princess.” I press a tender kiss over her lips, and, for a fleeting moment, it feels as if she’s kissing me back. “Until we meet again.”

  I swallow hard as I take a step away—hardest damn step I’ve ever taken in my life. It’s like trying to move through quicksand. Everything about this moment feels impossible.

  “Where’s Gage?” It gruffs out of me because it’s taking all of my restraint not to curl up on that bed with her and have Dudley extract me out of here, kicking and screaming. But I know there’s one more thing I have to do.

  “In his bedroom, but you can’t speak with him. It’s firmly against the rules.”

  I knot up his tidy little dress shirt and pull him in until we’re nose to nose. I glare into those bizarre, fucked up, crimson-colored eyes of his and let out a roar.

  “You’re going to break a few rules today, Dudley. I need to speak with him,” my voice cracks. “There are still some things I need to say.”

  “Very well.” He sweeps me away easy as brushing off lint. “I’ll freeze time and put you both in a thermodynamic capsule which will enable you to have a quick—”

  “Sounds good.” I cut off Dudley’s psychobabble as I head toward Gage’s bedroom.

  “You can walk through walls,” Dudley shouts after me.

  “I figured so,” I say as I speed out the door without bothering to open it.

  The air warbles with each step I take as if I were walking through water. Looks like Dudley’s tricks are proving beneficial one last time. I give a gentle knock over my nephew’s door before walking on in like a normal person. I’m not really in the mood to terrorize him. Hell, I just want to tell him that I love him. That I always have.

  Gage looks up from his desk and rises to meet me. He looks suspicious, still slightly ticked. His duffle bag sits on his bed with the clothes vomiting out. He must have just got back fr
om Host.

  “What’s up?” He meets me midway with a knuckle bump. “Rumor has it both you and Skyla conveniently disappeared together this weekend. So I guess you finally broke down and told her.”

  “That I did.” My eyes glaze over, and I can’t hold back another second. I pull Gage into a tight embrace and lose it right there.

  “Whoa.” He pulls back and takes me in, rife with worry. “Logan, you’re still here. I thought about it, and you might have infinitely longer. A day to God isn’t like a day to us.”

  “It’s done, dude. I’m already gone.” I wipe my face down with the back of my hand and take in a breath, trying to pull it together one last time. I need to focus on the fact I was lucky to have been born in the first place, to have been destined for Skyla in some small way.

  “What do you mean it’s done? You’re right here. Get over this so we can work on getting you a loophole.” He pats me on the back as if to say it’s going to be okay.

  “We’ve run out of loopholes, Gage. The loophole I had was that Treble Candace put me in the day of Dudley’s party—and now it’s been revoked. Dudley put some hold on time, and that’s the only reason I’m standing in front of you.”

  “Where’s Skyla?” Gage looks afraid for me, afraid for Skyla.

  “She’s in my bedroom. Before you go, I want you to know how much I care about you, man.” I give his arm a light sock. “Remember when we were kids and Emma took us to the dinosaur exhibit at the museum—and I freaked you out because I told you they were going to come to life and eat you?”

  “Yeah”—he relaxes a moment—“I remember.”

  “I’m sorry I lied to you, buddy.” I press out a depleted grin. “I’ve always felt bad about that.”

  “No worries. I’m sure I’ve pulled a few over on you.”

  “Yeah, well, something you didn’t pull over on me is the fact you want Skyla. I know you love her as fiercely as I do, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Take good care of her for me, would you?” I’m losing it again. “Make sure she’s happy. Give her flowers—take her to dinner, make her breakfast every damn day. Don’t let her get too down over how things turned out for me. Make sure she smiles a lot.” Tears stream down my face in rivers, and I don’t give a shit. “Love her body, soul, and mind with such intensity she never has to wonder if there’s anyone in this world that truly has her back. I want her to know the heights and depths of love. I want her to feel like she’s in a fucking romance novel twenty-four seven, you hear me?” I don’t mean for it to come out like the threat that it does. “Love her, worship her, and I know she’ll return the favor. She’s crazy about you, Gage, and I’ll be the first person to say I’m glad. I’m rooting for you guys. Take care of her for me.”