Page 64 of Jetmir

“Okay, I guess I can do that,” she agreed. “And what are you doing right now? Maybe you should rest so you can keep your mind sharp. You realize Anya will not take this lying down. Right?”

I really, REALLY wished my twin didn’t know that Anya poisoned me with a homemade baklava after a huge fight we had. She’d claimed it was a peace offering. Newsflash, it fucking wasn’t. I ended up in the hospital puking my guts out while my wife ran back to her family.

Had she been trying to kill me? Nah, I didn’t think so. Despite what Elira believed. If my woman had wanted me dead, I would be dead.

“Don’t worry, sis. I won’t be eating anything my wife bakes.”

She nodded. “Smart. You should probably do all the cooking.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“And what are you doing right now?” she asked, tilting her chin in the direction of my computer.

“I’m hacking into Anya’s e-reader.”

“Huh?” I ignored her, focused on my task. “Jet, what does her Kindle have to do with getting back in her good graces?”

“The most important thing is having her fall in love with me again.”

“By hacking into her Kindle?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t get it.”

“I noticed.”

“Do you care to explain?” When I didn’t answer, Elira came around and looked over my shoulder. “Hello, I asked a question.”

“Hello, I’m ignoring you.”

I inserted a code breaker, then waited as numbers and letters flipped through the page until the right digits came up. Bingo, I was in.

Titles started flashing across my screen. She even had them organized by folders and kinks. My angel had developed all sorts, it would seem.

I stroked the keyboard as images of my wife in compromising positions flared in my mind. Writhing, sobbing, screaming. Especially screaming. She did it so well during our short marriage. It was so fucking addictive.

Elira choked behind me. Frankly, I totally forgot she was still in the room.

“Shit, this is… yeah, I didn’t need to know this.”

“Elira, thank you for your help, but why are you still here?” I snapped. “I’ve got it from here. My wife and I will be⁠—”

“On some kinky honeymoon, from the looks of it,” she cut in. “You know what? You’re right. I’m going to go. I’ll check on that donor you secured for Gabriel. Hopefully he keels over any day now so your kinky honeymoon will get… even freakier when Anya’s thanking you.”

And with that she left—thank God—while I focused on my wife’s notes from the books she marked as favorites.

I read the first one. When he said “good girl” I melted.

Another.

Touch her throat again and I’ll forgive every crime.

Another.

This man desperately needs therapy… but I’d still climb him.

I rubbed a hand over my mouth, trying—and failing—not to grin while my heartbeat kicked harder.