Free Toxic Part Two (Celestra Series Book 7.5) by Addison Moore

pass,” I say, replacing the lid and distancing myself from the fragrant culinary disaster. “And really? Squirrel? That’s freaking gross.” Looks as though my skinny jeans and arteries are safe for the time being.
    “That’s not ‘freaking gross,’” he mocks in horror. “That, my love, is dinner.” He tosses the dishrag over his shoulder and looks decidedly hot while doing so, but I’ll never admit it. Everyone knows there’s nothing hotter than a man in the kitchen, with the exception of Tad.
    He frowns into me. “And, where were you after the war? I was beside myself with worry.”
    “With Logan and Gage, thank you very much.” I stagger over to the couch and kick off the ridiculous high heels I decided to wear today. Who knew a war would break out? I might have to invest in a pair of steel-toe combat boots. That way, I can literally and figuratively kick some Count ass. Not that any ass kicking has yet to take place. Actually, if the ass kicking in question is geared toward Celestra, then yes, it has totally already manifested in the physical sense.
    “You, my dear kitten, are impossibly titillating.”
    I glance over at Marshall, lacking the energy to properly roll my eyes. I think the expression “one-track mind” was literally derived from him.
    “I don’t know what the hell you just said, but it sounds disastrous.” My eyelids sear themselves shut. Normally, I wouldn’t fight my body on the much-needed snooze-fest its trying to procure, but I feel rather exposed spread over the length of Marshall’s couch and he’s gearing up to pounce. I can feel it.
    “Never you mind your pretty little head,” he says, making his way over. “What’s important is that you’re no longer with the twisted Olivers—you’re here. And, might I note, that you lose each time you’re in their presence. Accept the fact they’re cursed and move on. I suggest you find someone of noble character, someone who comes from victory—like me.”
    My lids open just enough for me to view him hovering over me. I give him less than five seconds—he lands next to me in less than three. 
    “I want to hear all about your time in the ethereal plane. Tell me everything.”
    “Really?” I sit up on my elbows and he’s quick to scoot over, so I use his legs as a pillow and nestle in. I start in on the night, sans my freshly penned and more-than-slightly unorthodox agreement with Ezrina. I rattle on about the faction meeting, the popup war that my mother’s wry sense of humor seems to spring on me with decidedly ill-timing, and how pissy Nicholas Haver acted because I lost yet another region.
    Marshall gazes down at me with a content look on his face. I reach up and touch my hand to his cheek.
    “You really are a good listener, you know that?”
    He loses himself while grazing over my body with those sun-scorched eyes, so I place my hand over his to listen in on his private musings. Usually, he can throw them at me at a distance, which is his way of showing off his Sector prowess, but for now, he’s lost in lust, too far gone to throw anything coherent my way. 
    My mouth desires to trace out the landscape of her every curve. I crave to have her, right down to her tiny beautiful feet. How I yearn for the moment she graces my chambers night after luscious night with all of the affection we can afford. We’ll charge the air with our ferocity. I can almost feel her skin burning against mine, the singe of her thighs smoothing over me as I make her my wife with a pronounced finality.
    And there’s that.
    “I can hear you,” I say.
    A smile rides up his cheek. “Though the deep drink of our love tarry—wait for it.”
    “As I was saying…” I carry on about my night at record speed. It feels so good to have someone listen for a change. Even if Marshall isn’t picking up on a word I say, it feels rather therapeutic lying on a couch, giving an expository of my most unusual day. “And, that’s how it ended.” I blow