DECEIT (B723) by Hazel Grace (ebook reader for surface pro .TXT) 📕

we see it on every mission make people either do stupid things or release their innermost thoughts and fears. It’s probably why we all are how we are.

Especially me and my so-called husband.

Alexander lifts off the couch, sliding his dick deeper into my mouth as I adjust to his size the further he goes. He finds his rhythm quickly and groans, keeping my head where he wants me to be.

“Fuck, Ems.” I feel him twitch between my lips, and I wrap my thumb and index finger around the bottom of his shaft. “I’m ready to die now.” I shake my head because I’d never want that to happen.

In a way, he’s my sanity to my craziness. He’s the only thing in my life that’s constant but not involved in the darkness of my second family. B723, and everyone in it is my entire life, but Alexander is my vacation spot. The man who doesn’t pry and push and makes me feel like I’m just a complete bitch. That my overbearing nature isn’t a huge issue, and I’m welcomed here with him, in intimate and small moments with pineapple.

A sharp rasp on my condo door sounds and my eyes clamp shut. I forgot I told Mills to drop off some files for me since he was in the office tonight.

Alexander begins to pull out between my lips, but I seize his thigh to keep him here.

“You can go answer the door,” he says. “I’ll—“ I deep throat him, and his whole body laxes then shivers. “Holy fuck.” I bob my head more urgently, wanting him to come before we have to stop. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

That gets my heart to beat double-time and swelter. It yearns and collects it into a little vile as the words repeat in my brain.

No, he can’t mean it like…fully.

Alexander is a magnificent guy, and I don’t assume that he says things like that all the time to just anyone. I feel special regardless, and when I take all of him in again, he comes, spurting his come in my mouth as I swallow and lick.

Immediately helping me up, Alexander presses a hot and heavy kiss to my lips before smacking my ass. “You…later.”

My mouth lifts, and I practically walk-skip to the door. Whipping it open, I hold out my hand to take the manila folders from Mills when I flinch backward.

Darkness covers my doorstep, attired in a white tee and dark blue jeans. Long raven hair casually styled on the side of his face with his matching beard, longer than the last time I saw him over a month ago.

Then I notice what’s in his hands.

A bundle of various pink flowers, ones that have fully bloomed and others that were still cocooned in green, lay beautifully in his grip.

My mouth opens to say something, but he reaches for me, hauling me into his tight chest then into the brick siding of my condo.

His lips slam into mine while his hand possessively wraps around the bottom of my chin. His tongue seeks immediate entrance, and I melt against his heat and the hardness of his body.

It doesn’t register at first.

No, it takes a good ten seconds before my brain connects to the rationality and truth that is inside my place right now fixing his pants.

I don’t get to push Bishop away because he does it himself.

He steps back like I just electrocuted him, and recognition dawns on him. He tasted me and, even though I’m quite aware Bishop doesn’t suck dick, he more than likely may have just sampled something that wasn’t me just now.

“Been busy, wife?” he sneers, shoulders tense and bulked out as if he’s about to enter war. I press my spine deeper into the sharp edges of the brick, allowing myself to be reminded that this is what it feels like to continue running back to him.

It’s jagged, uncomfortable, and unforgiving.

“What are you doing here?” I ask off a shaky exhale, my hand flying to my stomach because it won’t stop knotting.

I’m going to throw up.

I can’t keep doing this with him and everything begs me to let go. To finish this and start new with something else. I deserve better, but some of me doesn’t want it.

“Just got back,” he deadpans, keeping his intense stare on me and tossing the perfectly arranged bouquet to the ground.

His eyes are dark now, full of anger, confusion, and regret as he stands before me.

I’m guessing that he wishes he never would’ve shown up here. That it took him a lot to do so, and now he could kick himself in the ass for giving in. I long and crave for more, and he does the same. We both won’t give in, but we’re hydrogen and oxygen; we need each other to breathe.

“How did it go?” I ask, digging my fingertips into my t-shirt. “The mission, I mean.”

“He’s dead.”

I bob my head. “Good. When did you get back?”

“Yesterday.” His head cocks to the left. “Miss me, baby?”

The squeaking of my front door whines but Bishop and I don’t break eye contact.

No, it’s more dangerous than that.

I’ve seen Bishop take on multiple men at one time and come out on the other side with only a few bruises. Alexander could become dog food if Bishop so pleased.

My guest being in plain view of such a creature isn’t safe. And the fullness of Bishop’s glare isn’t necessarily a secure location either.

“Hi,” Alexander greets, and—Lord help the man—he holds out a hand. “I’m Alexander.”

“You must be the boyfriend,” my husband grumbles, flicking his gaze to him.

“You’ve heard of me?” Alexander’s voice goes up a notch, sounding completely surprised and thrilled at the news.

I want to crawl into a tiny hole and die.

Bishop steps up on him, and I know that move anywhere. I’ve seen all the boys do it, even Blue. It ends up with Bishop’s fist in someone else’s face.

Quickly I step in, trying to make it look casual as I block Alexander from being