The Devil's Mark (Book 1)

Chapter Forty Seven: The Last Supper

Lucifer

In the days following the events of the mysterious explosion that rocked merry olde London to its core. A worldwide press release began focusing solely on Jason and his miraculous survival that left over two hundred people dead and another eighty seven injured. Relentless with their endless pursuit of the truth about what happened that morning, I managed to get my lawyers involved and shift their focus away from my family and out of the media spotlight. Protecting this family had become my top priority since that day, minus the long-distance phone calls regarding work details while trying to keep my business afloat.

And speaking of afloat, Jason was up to his neck soaking in a nice warm tub. With his eyes closed I could tell he was enjoying himself up until he noticed me sitting along the edge with a glass of my favorite scotch. Then I watched as the water around him barely stirred a ripple. I imagined his body underneath all those bubbles and how slick and warm he must feel. That made me hard. To know that I could slip my hand beneath the surface and touch what was rightfully mine not just by marriage but by lifemate, had my body raring to go in a sea of rage. When suddenly, a hand raised from the water as it touched my own and I shook my head as I locked eyes with him.

"Let me ask you a question," he said. "Ever since I've known you. You've always drank the same bottle of scotch. Don't you ever get tired of it?"

"Not at all. I love it. I love the way it tastes and the way it looks just sitting there in the glass. And it helps me relax when I've had a tough day at the office."

Jason rolled his eyes, reaching for a bar of soap that was underneath the water. "And the smoking. How often do you do it?"

I shrugged. "Not much. It's very rare. But I only smoke when I'm out playing cards with the boys or after settling a huge victory. Why do you ask?"

"The baby, honestly. I won't have my husband drinking and smoking like a chimney stack after the baby is born. And don't think for a second that you aren't going to be helping me, because you are. You're ass in this for the long haul. So you better be ready."

I sat up straight, my head held high. "I will always stand beside you, my love. No matter what."

Setting the bar of soap down on a saucer plate next to a small end table in the corner just behind his head. Jason reached over and released the lever that started a chain reaction in allowing the water to swirl down into the drain where it would connect with the condo's main pipeline and be washed out into the city's main sewer system. As for the remaining bubbles most still clung to his body in an attempt to cover up his naughty bits. I helped him up and held out a towel as he took it and wrapped it around himself. Then I lifted him out of the tub single-handedly where he thanked me and went to the bedroom to get dressed.

I finished off what remained in the glass before walking out of the room. The air smelling like roses thanks to the bar of soap. The scent lingering on his skin but in an hour or two, it would fade. In the kitchen, I gathered the ingredients and cookware needed to make a nice romantic dinner for two. Just like old times. Oh, how those memories fill with me joy. But that's all they are now, isn't it? What a terrible idea time plays on us all. In world where the clock always moves, never standing still for too long. Yet it continues to spiral out of control searching for that one thing that will end its lifelong cycle; death.