Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73278 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73278 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
I stared at him, pitying him. I could understand a man not wanting to settle with one woman, but not to have children was heartbreaking. Having a family was a blessing. Having someone to love with your whole heart was…indescribable. “It’s a shame.”
“I disagree.” When he looked at me, it was with a twinge of hostility. “Don’t judge me. Don’t think you’re better than me. I know what I want out of life. You were the one stupid enough to get captured.”
Within the snap of a finger, the peacefulness I felt sitting there with him faded away. I used to tolerate him, even like him, but that comment hurt far too much. He sliced a knife over a scar that hadn’t healed yet. He stabbed me in the heart even though my heart was already broken.
He must have realized what he said, because he winced slightly then sighed, his eyes on the TV.
I kicked off the blanket and stormed up the stairs, no longer interested in talking to him. Maybe I’d misjudged him. Maybe I shouldn’t have assumed he had some good qualities. I should have assumed he was an asshole—just like my gut told me.
He followed me a moment later. “Mia—”
I reached the top of the staircase then turned around to look at him. “I’m not the one who bought some woman with cash to boost my ego. I’m not the one who keeps her as a prisoner even though she deserves to be free. I’m not the mama’s boy who pretends to be a good man, only to turn around and keep an innocent person against their will. Yes, I am better than you, Carter. I’m so much better than you.”
He paused halfway up the staircase, listening to my speech with unblinking eyes. When he stepped up the stairs, his muscles shifted and moved under the skin. His eyes were full of pity, as if he genuinely cared about the way he made me feel.
“A real man doesn’t need to force a woman on her back. He should be able to bed her without force.”
“And have I forced you?” His deep voice echoed against the vaulted ceiling.
“But you force me to live here without a purpose.”
“You cook and clean—”
“Go fuck yourself.” I turned around on my heel and stormed into my bedroom. I slammed the door behind me, hoping he wouldn’t follow me inside. I would rather stare at the wall in my room then look at his handsome face another second.
The door opened a second later. “Mia—”
“You should be fucking yourself. I gave very specific orders.” I sat on the floor at the foot of the bed, my back against the wooden frame.
“I’ll do that later tonight before I go to sleep.” He lowered himself to the spot on the ground beside me, keeping a few feet in between us.
I hated myself for feeling slightly hot at that information. I even pictured him going to town on himself, sitting up against his headboard while he rubbed lube up and down his dick. I imagined him picturing me, not watching porn on his computer.
“I take back what I said. It was an asshole thing to say.”
“Because you are an asshole.” With my arms crossed over my chest, I stared straight ahead at the wall in front of me. I could smell him beside me, a mixture of shampoo, shaving cream, and cologne. He had a distinct scent, like leather and oak.
“I don’t disagree with that. I just hate it when people get on my case about not wanting a family.”
“Who gets on your case about it?”
“My mother.” He faced forward, looking at the same wall. “She says I’m getting old. Instead of fucking around, I need to focus on finding a nice woman who will put up with me, who wants me for me and not my money. And she wants me to have my own family…because having me is the greatest joy she’s ever known.” He shook his head slightly. “My father and I have a different kind of relationship. We’re close, but we talk about other things like guns, sports, work, stuff like that. But when my mom talks to me about stuff, she has this special way of making me feel guilty. So when I tell her I don’t want a family…she looks so heartbroken. Now you’re giving me shit about it, and I just get defensive. Doesn’t give me the right to say that to you…so, I’m sorry.” He didn’t look at me, not the way he did earlier. Sometimes he was aggressive and intense, filling the entire room with silent hostility. At other times, he seemed like a nice guy…like now.
“I wasn’t judging you. I just wanted you to know that having children is a wonderful experience. You shouldn’t write it off as something you don’t want…not when you don’t understand how great it can be.”