His clear tension made me apprehensive. And when I told him we could stay in, he’d given me a firm shake of his head, a light kiss on my lips, and told me sometimes we had to do things that pushed bad blood away and where masks of civility had to be put in place.

I set the invitation back on the counter and headed toward our bathroom. I didn’t know when Arlo would come home. His job wasn’t one that was nine to five. He didn’t return home in his pressed boardroom suit and a briefcase in hand.

He killed for a living, disposed of bodies, maimed, and tortured. And every time he came home, he showered the violence and gore off his body, slipped into bed beside me, and touched me with hands that had taken lives. But his touch was gentle, his kisses soft and possessive, his passion powerful.

Arlo had fire in his veins and control in his blood. But with me, he unleashed that beast, and I embraced him fully.

Twenty minutes later, I was showered and had one of Arlo’s oversized shirts on, the material falling to my knees and smelling just like him. I slipped into bed, pulled the dark satin comforter to my chin, and stared out the window at the city just beyond.

Even if his “work” hours were erratic, and more times than not he did whatever it was he did in the middle of the night, I never felt alone. Then again, all my life, I’d never had anyone in my corner, not until he filled that hollow space in my soul.

My days were no longer scraping by, working tirelessly at dead-end, odd jobs, and trying to stay afloat. I was no longer running from the bad guys. I had no safety worries, no money problems. Arlo spoiled me, not just with physical needs but with the emotional and mental ones as well, until I was so consumed I drowned in the love he gave me.

And the truth was, I would have been happy living with him in a cardboard box if that’s where our path took us. As long as he was with me, I knew things would be okay.

I didn’t remember falling asleep, but I must have, because I felt the bed dip behind me, the shift on the mattress rousing me. I opened my eyes and blinked to focus, heavy sleep trying to pull me back under. I stared at the cityscape across from me, not having moved from my side position when I first slipped into bed.

It was his scent that had the fogginess of sleep fully fading and something hotter and darker coiling within me. His dark, spicy aroma that wrapped around me. The soap he used was plain, and unscented, but I swore it accentuated his natural aroma, one that instantly had desire licking through my body.