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)
He has no idea who he’s dealing with, though, and that’s the problem. “He’ll seriously hurt you,” I whisper urgently. It’s not like I want to offend his male pride or whatever, but it’s the truth, and he deserves to know it.
Dean’s face falls a little, and I know it was the wrong thing to say—though if it stops a fight from breaking out, was it really? “So that’s really how it is?”
“Yeah. It is,” I say, my heart sinking. I don’t think we’re talking about the fight anymore. Not entirely.
His jaw tenses, and his nostrils flare like he wants to explode, but he manages to hold himself back. “Fine. Got it. You’re not worth the effort.” He spits on the ground close to Zeke’s feet before grabbing his hat off the ground. “For lunch.” He tosses a handful of twenty-dollar bills on the pavement before shooting me one last look.
A look that brings only one word to mind: hatred. He hates me. Was he ever who I thought he was?
And when Zeke growls behind me, I realize I’m in trouble with him, too. Can I ever win?
“We’re going to have a talk when we get home about embarrassing me in front of people,” he warns. “I think we should head in that direction now.”
I can only brace myself for what I know is coming—even though I doubt there’s any way I can prepare for his wrath.
25
ZEKE
We don’t say a word the entire way back to the condo. I’m afraid that I won’t be able to stop once I start. I might even end up driving us off the road, and then where would we be? Anything I have to say can wait until we’re alone.
Which means my rage only has time to grow bigger. Hotter. More intense. Who the fuck does she think she is, telling me what to do or who I can fight? She doesn’t make my choices for me. And she sure as fuck doesn’t do it while we’re in front of people. Why not cut off my balls and carry them in her purse?
Judging by the way she sits with her arms folded, staring out the window, I’m guessing she feels the same way. I’ve never seen her furious enough to shut her up. It’s like we’ve reached a new level of how far we can push each other.
We walk silently from the car to the elevator and take the ride up just as silently. I can feel her seething, the energy radiating from her. Something is going to explode.
And it does once we’re inside with the door locked. Rather than set the alarm straight away, I choose instead to shove her up against the door. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” I growl, leaning down close to her face. “Telling me what to do. Bossing me around. I’m not some bitch you can control.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” she growls back. Her chest is heaving, her pulse fluttering wildly in her throat. “The big, bad man. Like a fucking animal without enough common sense to avoid getting in a public fight. You’re supposed to be protecting me, not drawing more attention. Right?”
“Of course. That’s all you fucking care about. The attention. How it would make you look.”
“You don’t have the first fucking clue what I care about.” She swallows hard, her eyes darting to my mouth and back again. “Did you ever think maybe it was hard for me to see you about to fight over me? Do you know how shitty that made me feel?”
“So I was supposed to take it?” I lean in closer, so close our bodies touch. I’m not sure how much more of this I can take before I have no choice but to rip her clothes off. “Let him goad me into a fight and pretend it didn’t matter? News flash: that’s not how I operate.”
“Because you’re the big, bad alpha. Right?” She manages to find room to slide her hands between us and then pushes against my chest. “Is that supposed to impress me?”
“I don’t do things to impress you.” She gasps when I take her by the throat, tipping her head back. Her beautiful eyes shine with a wild light. “As for the big, bad alpha, I think we both know it doesn’t take much to control you.”
“Get your hand off me.” It’s a whisper, barely audible. I’m not squeezing, only holding her firm enough that she can’t get away. When I do apply a bit of pressure, though, her eyes widen further.
“Don’t pretend you don’t want me to touch you.” With my other hand, I skim her body, taking in the fullness of her hip and her tits. “Don’t act like you’re not dying to be fucked.”
All it takes is the slightest upward tick of the corners of her mouth. She wants this. She wants me.