Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“Men clean,” Seamus says once the meal is over. I try to rise and help but Brody gently pushes me back into my seat.
“Men clean,” he repeats and pours me another glass of wine. His eyes remain on mine for a little bit too long and I’m thinking of what he said back in the living room about satisfying me.
And I start to wonder if maybe the guys had a point.
After dinner, Brody and I go for a walk around the block. It’s cool and comfortable out, and I linger close next to him, but we’re not touching. He doesn’t try to take my hand, and I’m not about to throw myself at him, not when I keep thinking about that stupid conversation.
“I don’t want to talk about what happened earlier,” Brody says, which is a really bad way of not talking about it.
“Then don’t talk.”
“I shouldn’t have yelled at my brother like that. It was out of line.” His jaw flexes. “I hadn’t thought about—” He clears his throat. “Your needs.”
“You haven’t thought about my needs?” My eyebrows raise. “Come on, that can’t be true. I bet all you’ve been doing since we got married is think about my needs.”
He lets out a long breath. “You don’t make anything easy on me, do you?”
“Nope, not at all.” I get closer to him, grinning up into his clearly uncomfortable face. “Admit it. You like thinking about my needs. You like to picture me alone in my bedroom taking care of myself.”
He stares back and I can see how hard he’s struggling to maintain control. I think of his fingers clutching my hip, the ghost of his skin against mine, and a part of me wants him to let go. I want that caveman Brody back, the one who threatens to hurt anyone that gets near his woman. It’s not very progressive of me, but to hell with that. I liked it, and that’s what matters.
“Seamus had a point, okay? You do have rights. I hadn’t thought about it, but you’re a person like anyone else—”
I fight back a laugh. “Are you about to give me permission to cheat on you?”
His expression darkens. “I don’t think I could handle that.”
“So you’re possessive, but you’re also not lining up to do the job yourself. Puts me in a bad spot, right?”
“I know.” He looks away. “It’s fucked.”
I want to tell him to stop being so stubborn. I want to tell him that maybe he can do something about it. I want to tell him that I’m not interested in cheating, or having an open marriage, or anything like that, and maybe he and I can just fuck and keep each other happy, it doesn’t have to be a big deal, but I can’t make myself say the words. Once I do that, once I go down that road, there’s no turning back. I’ll be his, and I don’t want to be his. Not this way.
“It’s fine, we’ll figure it out,” I say, giving him an out.
He stops walking and I have to turn to face him. “I want you to come over tonight.”
My eyebrows shoot up. Seriously, if they weren’t attached to my face, they’d be on the moon. “That’s one hell of an invitation, given the context.”
He grimaces. “No, not for sex. I meant, to see my place. I got it decorated.”
I laugh but it dies on my tongue. “You’re not kidding.”
“I’m not. And I need to tell you about what happened with Omar still.”
“Look, Brody—” I should turn him down. We just got finished talking about how we have to find a way to keep me sexually satisfied, which is actually kind of mortifying now that I think about it, but the look in his eye makes me stop.
Because would it be so bad? Sleeping with him? I could at least try to be his wife, and if not his wife, then his partner.
“No sex stuff, okay?” I say after a pause. “This is purely an informative visit.”
“Right, purely informative.” A sly smile presses at his lips. “But I wasn’t kidding inside. I could take care of you, wifey.”
I shiver and turn back to the house. I’d bet good money that he’s absolutely right, except I’m not sure I want to find out. “Take me home first and we’ll see about all that other stuff.”
Chapter 14
Elena
Ihonestly thought he was fucking with me.
But when I walk into his house for the second time, I’m absolutely stunned.
It looks like someone lives here.
And not just anyone, but someone with really good taste. There’s lots of vintage-looking art on the walls, new furniture, even some fresh flowers on the coffee table. Little plants line the front windowsill, and even the kitchen’s been covered in small touches, like a little rooster statue next to the butter dish.