“I … I don’t want to go home. I want to stay here tonight.” Her blue eyes were earnest but so sleepy. “With you.”

“I have a better idea.”

I scooped her up into my arms, lifting her off the bed. The tiny portal I’d conjured into her bedroom was within arm’s reach. I stretched out, digging a finger into it to expand it, and I carried my precious cargo through.

37. A Goner for the Son of Satan

Chapter 37

A Goner for the Son of Satan

Jemma

He was in his human form by the time he stepped out of the portal, with me cocooned in his strong arms. A pang of disappointment rocked me. A strange sixth sense that what we’d just experienced in Hell was a one-time thing.

And that just wouldn’t do.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, Mouse.” He strode towards the bedroom door, fumbling with the handle, tugging it open and carrying me out into the hallway.

“Jemma? Did you—oh!” Ezra’s voice went up a full octave. I hid my head in SJ’s shoulder, stifling a hysterical giggle against his pec.

“We did,” SJ answered, a hint of amusement in his tone. “And now I must prepare Jemma for bed. Bad … goodnight, Ezra.”

And he continued towards the bathroom as if it was completely normal for us to appear out of nowhere, completely naked, sweaty and sex-mussed and covered in a variety of bodily fluids.

When we were shut inside the bathroom, he ran the shower, keeping me ensconced in his arms. And I felt safe … I felt like I was home.

Holy Hell, I hoped that we could sort all of this out between us. Because I was just a teeny bit in love with the big devil.

“Are you sore?” he asked softly, stepping under the warm spray and setting me down, my back propped against his front. “That was … intense.”

“It was incredible,” I sighed contentedly, reaching for my body wash and his hand. I squirted some into it. “But you did just promise to clean me up, and I know how much you enjoyed doing just that earlier.”

“Bad grief, Mouse … and look where that ended. I will not be taking you again tonight. There’s a fine line between ruining you for other males and wrecking you entirely. I am not prepared to cross it.”

I giggled. “So don’t. Just wash me, and …” I turned to face him, my hands resting on his chest. “Don’t run off again. Promise?”

His face softened. “No running off tonight.”

Well, that wasn’t exactly the promise I’d been asking for. But it was better than nothing.