Page 254 of The Carnage We Keep

My husband’s brow furrows heavily.

“Yeah, I don’t love the visual of you holding another man’s dick, dead or not.”

I snort and hold the tiny package out to him, giving it a limp little shake.

“You can’t seriously be threatened by this.” A giggle ripples from my lips as I wave the genuinely small dick at Damiano like I’m brandishing a toy sword. “I mean, you’re like six times bigger than this.”

“Not in this fucking cold,” he grumbles.

A grin tugs at my lips. “Bet I could help with that.”

Dame smiles and pulls me into a kiss.

“How about we finish getting rid of Councilman Montoya first.”

I sigh. “Fine. But just so you know…” I brush my mouth up his jaw to his ear. “I just got my period.”

He groans deeply, his grip tightening on me.

“Let’s pick up the pace getting rid of this shit,” he growls.

Okay, so, my husband has a bit of a blood kink.

Not me complaining in the fucking least.

Dame shuts the cooler and we move to our next spot. I mean, you can’t just throw all the bits in one place. There are standards to uphold here.

“Jesus, will you get rid of that fucking thing?”

Dame’s just turned around to find me cosplaying as a unicock again.

“What? I’m majestic.”

He rolls his eyes. “What you are is fucking weird.”

I grin and blow him a kiss as I toss the councilman’s shrimp dick into the water with a tiny splash.

“Love that you notice the little things, baby,” I wink.

I wrap my arms around Dame from behind, snuggling into him against the chill of the wind as he steers us further down the coast just past downtown Hawthorne Harbor. As I glance at the shoreline, a particularly gorgeous, huge house perched on the rocky shore catches my attention.

“Whoa,” I murmur. “I wonder whose Bond-villain lair that is.”

Dame follows my gaze.

“Laz Kislev’s.”

My brows arch. “Yeah?”

I've heard about Laz from Ari filling me on her friend Wren’s drinking issues this past semester. When her parents decided that living on campus wasn’t maybe the best move in terms of her getting better, she moved in with him, since he’s just down the hill from Knightsblood.

I mean, I'm nineteen and even I can see that “forced proximity with your dad's hot best friend” is a trope for a fucking reason.

Dame brings the boat to a stop, letting it bob in the waves for a second before he turns to open the cooler again. My attention stays on the lit-up house though when I hear music starting to float across the water.

My eyes snap to the huge picture window on the first floor revealing maybe a giant library. A man's tall, broad-shouldered silhouette steps into the light. Then a much smaller, clearly feminine figure follows him.

The man pauses, turns and holds out a hand.