Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 59804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Everything had been too quiet since we’d attacked the night before. We were all waiting for retaliation, and because of that, maybe I was on edge, not thinking straight. Maybe I used her because I’d wanted to touch her.
Even though I knew I had no right to even be in the same room with someone like her, someone good, a survivor, when I was usually the one on the opposite end of that gun, torturing, killing, maiming.
Yeah, my hands were covered in sin.
Her body was covered in bruises from men like me.
I was suddenly disgusted that I even touched her or thought to reach out and take that privilege even if, in my own twisted mind, I thought I was helping.
I couldn’t sleep. So I laid down on the hard ground and realized that I would need to tread carefully, especially where she was concerned. It was too easy for her to weasel her way in. Too easy for me to want to care when all I ever promised her and Andrei was my gun and fists.
Her hand draped over the edge of the bed.
Her fingertips grazed my arm—I let them.
And I imagined a world where it was okay to let my thoughts drift into dangerous territory—where I was able to pull her close instead of taunt and tease.
Where I could lay with her in that bed and touch whatever I wanted to touch, claim whatever needed to be claimed—possess in a way that she’s never experienced.
My body shuddered as if it knew how good it would be—could be. Maybe because it had been so long.
Or maybe because I’d been with the wrong woman this entire time—not that I could fix any of that since it was basically an arranged marriage, and I’d told my grandfather that I’d rather marry for purpose than love.
“Santino…” she whispered in her sleep. “Safe?”
“From nightmares?” I asked, wondering if she was actually asking me or just dreaming. She smiled. “I can do that.”
“What?”
She kept smiling and teasing my fingertips. What the hell was going on? Was she dreaming about me?
Featherlight touches of her fingertips made small circles on my arm, and then those gorgeous blue eyes blinked open, locking on mine.
She jerked her hand back.
I smirked. “It’s okay if you want to keep touching me.”
“I was dreaming.”
I grinned. “Good dream?”
Her cheeks flushed. “It wasn’t bad.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?” I licked my lips slowly as her eyes darted to my mouth and then back to my eyes. “I’m a great listener…”
She scowled and then chewed her lower lip. “I was naked, I think.”
“I think this might be my favorite bedtime story ever.” I grinned. “You were naked, and what? I wait with bated breath.”
“And…” Her eyes flickered to my bare chest. “And you were there.”
“What was I doing, Katya?”
She squirmed a bit under the covers. “Making me feel better.”
“Oh?” I leaned up on my elbows. Well, things just got interesting, and of course, right after I had a serious talk with myself about darkness, self-control, and staying away. “And how was I doing that?”
She seemed to snap out of a daze and fell back against the bed, awkwardly trying to pull the covers over her head. “Never mind…”
I leaped to my feet and then braced a hand on either side of her head, pressing my palms into the mattress. “Are you really going to get me all hot and bothered and then not finish?”
Her cheeks flamed bright red. She looked away from me but not before scowling. “Get off me before I knee you in the balls.”
“Is that any way to talk to the guy you’re dreaming about?” I let out a haughty sneer and then leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Did you at least get off, Katya? I mean, in your dream…”
“You’re disgusting.” Her breath came out in short pants as she jerked her head to the side in an effort to look farther away from me.
I was being a dick, but she’d dreamed of me, and now I couldn’t let go of it, of the thought of her thinking of me, dreaming, of her being naked.
I never promised I was a gentleman, not when things like that came out of her mouth at midnight.
I pressed my lips against her neck, right where her pulse hammered. “Your heart’s racing.”
“Fight or flight.” She gulped.
“Do I get a vote?” I reached for her chin and forced her to look at me. “Normally, people choose flight when facing me down—but I think I’d like to see you fight.”
Her knee came up in a vain effort to kick me. I pinned it down with my leg, but she reached up with her right hand like she was going to punch me. I dodged and pressed her arm back against the mattress; she arched up to greet me, teeth bared—she was magnificent in every way that said she was going to be the biggest damn distraction of my life.