Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 53880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
“I’ve got you.”
The words are simple. The words are fact.
Nick does have me. He’s never faltered once. If it weren’t for Nick, I’d be dead right now. If it weren’t for Nick, I’d be forgotten on the side of a street, a nameless victim of an attack.
Yes, nameless. I’m no longer Lyriope Bailey. That woman died long ago, vanished the minute she entered this new world of luxury, sin, crime, vengeance, and… the life of a Morelli. But nameless because no one would claim me as a Morelli if I were to have died last night. I’d just be the nameless girl in the bullet-ridden car.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, worry washed all over his face.
When my shudders turn into only the occasional shiver and my tears stop flowing, he takes a washcloth, soaps it, and begins washing me gently. I don’t know what to feel. Shock, comfort, pain, ease, or simply lost.
“He would have let me die,” I confess to Nick. “I have no doubt about it.”
“He’s an asshole.”
I nod, close my eyes, and take a deep, soothing breath.
“I had high hopes,” I add. “I really had hoped for…” I swallow back a sob threatening to escape from the back of my throat. “Love. I was hoping for love.”
He kisses the top of my head and holds me closer.
“I know.” His voice is low, soft, but comforting.
He does know. He does understand. If there is anyone in this world who understands how I feel, it’s him. Being on a constant search for love is exhausting and most likely impossible. Nick knows this. He’s on the same hunt for the nonexistent that I am on.
Two lost souls.
I turn to face him so I can look up into his eyes. “Thank you, Nick. Thank you for saving me, and thank you for saving him. You may feel he didn’t deserve it, but—”
“There’s not a thing I wouldn’t do for you. Even saving that fucker’s life.” The softness of his face has now returned to the Nick I know. A wicked gleam in his eyes and a slight smirk of his lips. “He doesn’t deserve your kindness and grace, but I love that you are so free with giving it out to all.”
I try not to glance down but can’t help it. His thick cock is already hard, and my pussy contracts at the thought of what he could do with it, and how he could master my body with just one simple thrust.
“You’re distracting me from my shower,” I tease, wanting to change the subject away from Bryant.
“I’m not sure you should be up and out of bed yet. If you want to shower, you shower with me,” he declares, reaching for the shampoo bottle. “That way, if you get dizzy or weak, I’m here to catch you.”
I like the sight of Nick in all his mouthwatering glory. Wet tattoos are sexier than dry ones.
“Awfully bossy, aren’t you,” I continue to tease, happy to be finding my inner strength again.
Nick squeezes the shampoo into his palm, then places the bottle down and turns me around as he takes hold of my hair, tugging my head back. Placing his lips to my ear, he practically growls, “You better get used to me being bossy.”
A shiver runs from my toes all the way to where Nick still firmly holds on to my hair.
Placing a small nip at my ear, and then laying a gentle kiss to chase away the sting, he says, “Let me wash your hair.”
He releases his hold of my tresses and replaces the dominant touch with one of tenderness. Gently, he massages the shampoo into my scalp, causing me to moan. I have no shame at all. It feels too good to hold in my pleasure.
“I can’t remember the last time I had my hair washed by someone,” I say as I close my eyes, allowing the feeling of love and contentment to wash over me.
“Well, get used to this kind of pampering. Now that I have you safe and sound, I plan to show you that you’re my queen everyday.”
I release a moan, still not opening my eyes.
He spins me around to face him, tilting my head back to wash away the suds in the flowing water behind me, still massaging my scalp as he does so. “I was so scared after the attack,” he admits. “I thought I’d lost you. I don’t ever want to feel that way again. You are mine, Lyriope. I want you to always be mine.”
I open my eyes to look up into his. The weightiness in his dark eyes tells me he is serious, and this is not the time to banter or joke. Taking his cue, I nod and wrap my arms around his neck. “I am yours, Nick. I’m yours forever. Never doubt that for even a minute.”