Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 33965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
"Oh, yeah?" He pushes away from the doorframe, prowling across the room toward me. "I think you need a closer look, Éire."
"Probably so. I do have terrible vision."
He chuckles, stopping beside the bed. "You know if I get on that bed with you, I'm going to be inside you as soon as I can make it happen, right?"
"Counting on it, rockstar."
"You should also know I have every intention of putting my kid in you."
"I…" I blink. "Wait. Really?"
"Til death do us part, Éire," he murmurs, tracing the ring encircling my finger. "They weren't just words. I meant them."
"Crue," I whisper. "I…"
"You're mine, Ireland Blake. You're going to keep being mine until they bury me six feet under. I don't care what I have to do to convince you not to leave me, I'll do it," he says, running his fingertip down my cheek.
"I never planned on leaving you. I just wanted to give you an out in case…"
"In case what?"
"In case you change your mind," I whisper, looking down at my hands. "You're a superstar, Crue. I'm just me. What happens when the whole world finds out about us, and you're all over the tabloids again? I don't want to be a mistake you made or something else you regret."
"You think I could regret you?"
"I don't know." I shrug helplessly. "I've never had to face having my heart broken into a million pieces. I'm terrified that you're going to shatter it, and I'll spend the rest of my life hearing your stupid voice on the stupid radio, remembering that you didn't love me back."
He inhales a sharp breath. "You're in love with me."
"What? No. I didn't say that. When did I say that?" I say, my voice rising an octave. "You're hearing things. You should get that checked out."
He plants one knee on the bed and then the other, crawling over me, his expression dark. "Don't lie to me, Ireland," he growls, caging me in beneath him. "Tell me the truth."
"I didn't say that!" I cry. "I said something else."
"Tell me what you said."
"I said I don't want to spend the rest of my life hearing your stupid voice on the stupid radio."
"After that."
"I told you that you should get your hearing checked," I say, skipping over the part he wants to hear.
His lips twitch. He knows what I'm doing. "You're pissing me off, baby."
"Fine. If you know what I said, why don't you tell me then, smarty pants?"
"You said you don't want to spend the rest of your life remembering that I don't love you back," he growls. "Which will never fucking happen because my heart has belonged to you since the first damn time you smiled at me, Éire." He cups my cheek, holding my gaze captive. "I. Love. You."
"Crue." Tears well in my eyes, threatening to spill over. "Say it again."
"I love you." He leans down, brushing his lips across mine. "I love you." His lips slide across my cheek, landing against my ear. "I love you, Ireland Blake."
I sob his name, flinging my arms around him. "I love you too. I mean, you probably already knew that because I'm a fangirl, but I mean it, Crue. I love you. Not your music or your band or the fact that you're famous or have won awards or can sing or dance. I love you and how much you love your bandmates. I love how funny you are. I love that you're bossy even though it's really annoying. I love everything about you."
"Jesus," he mutters against my skin, his big body trembling against mine. "You're killing me here, sweet girl."
"I don't want you to die. I just want you to know that I don't love you because of what you do. I love you for who you are underneath all of that. That man is kind of incredible, Crue," I whisper. "He's my dream, not the superstar."
"You mean heartthrob."
I try to knee him in the thigh, but he chuckles, grabbing my leg before I make contact. I settle for biting his neck instead. Which is clearly the wrong thing to do because he growls and shoves my legs apart, fitting himself between them.
"Keep it up, Ireland," he breathes against my neck, grinding his erection against my pussy. "You'll be carrying my kid before you can scream my name."
"Yeah? Is that a threat or a promise, Crue?"
"Fuck," he groans, lifting his gaze to look at me. "You want me to breed you, don't you?"
"So bad," I whisper.
A slow, wicked smirk spreads across his face. He rises up on his knees, reaching for the collar of my dress. I open my mouth to ask what he's doing, but he yanks before I can, ripping the fabric right down the center.
"Crue!" I cry, shocked. "You could have asked me to take it off!"