Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
“You mean hating each other.”
He almost smiles. Almost. “Did we? I mean, I know I hated you, but how could you possibly hate me? I’m charming and friendly.”
I know he’s joking, but even if he wasn’t, I’d probably burst out laughing anyway. “You are so full of shit.”
“Admit it.” He rolls onto his side, facing me, and I have to remind myself to look him in the eye rather than drool over his ridiculous body. Even now, relaxed, stretched out on the bed with the sheet barely draped over his hip, he’s enough to turn me on all over again. I’m still sore, and I don’t think I’ll be able to do much walking today without wincing, but I’m ready to go again.
“Admit what?”
“You like my attitude. It gets you off, fighting with me.” He grins, and I realize he hardly ever did before now. I barely recognize him. He even looks younger, and is that a dimple in his left cheek?
“So what if it does? Are you going to pick fights with me as an aphrodisiac or something?” I raise an eyebrow, challenging him.
“I don’t need to fight with you to want to fuck you, Mia.” He takes a long, slow tour of my body with his eyes. “All I have to do is look at you.”
The low growl under his voice sends a shiver up my spine. “You’re looking at me now.” I don’t take my eyes off him while pulling the blanket away from my body.
He licks his lips. “I’m in trouble, aren’t I?” Something tells me he doesn’t mind. I know I don’t.
19
ZEKE
Maybe if I run fast enough on this treadmill, I’ll outrun my guilt.
Maybe I’ll be able to convince myself the past couple of weeks can be forgotten. That they haven’t been a mistake.
That I’m not somehow happier than I’ve been in my life.
I don’t deserve to be happy. I’m taking advantage of her. And eventually, she’ll realize that.
My feet pound on the belt, sweat rolling down the back of my neck, my chest. I’m punishing myself, and I know it, but that won’t stop me. Not when I deserve it. Not when I’m giving her so much less than what she deserves.
She’s upstairs now, oblivious. She has no idea her future has been planned for her. That she’s living in a fantasy. Reality will come crashing in eventually, and I’m not sure I want to be there when it does. That would be the cowardly way out, though. Destroying her, then disappearing before the fallout can hit me.
Just like I do every day, I tell myself to end things. Once I’m upstairs, I’ll sit her down and tell her it’s over. We can’t do this anymore. I don’t want her getting any ideas about feelings and all that shit. It’ll be cruel, but it will get the point across. It will make her hate me, which is what I need her to do.
She’s going to hate me eventually, anyway. Might as well get it over with now.
And once again, the same excuse I’ve given myself the past two weeks rings out in the back of my head. What if she’s so hurt, she tells her father? I can pretend all I want that’s not a real threat, that I’m not afraid of what will happen if he finds out. It just isn’t true. And I can’t get it through to her what a drastic reaction he’d have without revealing everything. That he’s had people killed for much less than defiling his only daughter.
That would break her heart, too. It seems like no matter which way I look, no matter which path I decide to take, she ends up losing out.
All because I couldn’t be strong enough to resist her. I let her down.
I pick up the speed, driving myself harder, faster. If I’m exhausted enough, I might be able to fight off the impulse to grab her the second I set eyes on her. That’s how it always is. All it takes is a single look—or the smell of her perfume, or the sound of her voice—and I’m gone like some slobbering animal without a brain. That’s what she does to me. Nobody’s ever done that to me.
I don’t even want to think about what that means. It doesn’t have to mean anything, does it? She’s hot. And she’s available. It doesn’t have to be any deeper than that.
Sure. Keep telling yourself that.
Finally, I reach the edge of my endurance, and I drop the speed of the belt to cool down. My legs are almost rubbery, and my lungs burn, but it’s still not enough. I still feel like the world’s biggest piece of shit for taking advantage of an innocent girl.
And dammit, I still want to ravish her once I get upstairs.
A cute redhead I’ve seen around the gym a few times gives me an approving look when we cross paths as I’m on my way to the fridge for a drink. I nod but leave it at that. Wouldn’t life be easier if I did more? If I picked her up the way she obviously wants me to? If I had never been weak in the first place? If I had remembered my job and my duty? If I had put Mia’s well-being before my own?