Pestilence (The Four Horsemen Book 1)

cannot decide if you are a toxin or a tonic,” he says, lifting a hand to my cheek. “Only that you plague my thoughts and fill my veins.”

what minutes I have left—they are yours. I am yours.”

Still haven’t figured out the contraception issue, I think lazily.

Pestilence brushes a kiss along my temple.

He’d make a good dad.

Can’t believe I just had that thought …