Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
When I entered my bedroom, she was on the couch in her pajamas, ready for bed, with her makeup gone. The purple color of the bruising was distinct when it wasn’t hidden under foundation and concealer. She did a remarkable job hiding it, but all that work went to waste when she washed it off before bed…and I had to look at it.
A blanket was pulled over her body, but she watched me with sharpness. Her eyes showed more than fatigue, a deeper level of defeat. It’d been that way the last couple of days, all of her personality and presence gone. “Where were you?”
“Downstairs with Theo.” I omitted her father’s presence on purpose.
She turned back to the TV.
“Why are you on the couch if you’re tired?”
“Wanted to wait up for you.”
She’d never done that before. “You don’t need to do that, baby.”
“I don’t really have much of a choice.” She looked at the TV before she rubbed the corner of her eye with her fingertip.
I turned off the TV before I approached her on the couch. “Come on.”
She gave a quiet groan, slouched into the couch like her body had stopped working.
I felt like a father trying to get his kids to bed. I scooped her into my arms and lifted her against my chest, like she was an extra blanket I was stealing from the couch to put on the bed. I felt her arms hook around my neck and her cheek rest against my chest, so tired that she didn’t voice a single protest.
I set her on the bed and tucked her in, seeing her sexy legs disappear underneath the crisp white sheet.
She gave a quiet sigh before her tired eyes looked at me.
I changed in the middle of the room, dropping my shirt and jeans on the floor and kicking off my boots underneath the armchair. The lamps were off, and the glasses of water were on the nightstands, placed by Aldo while Scarlett was crashed on the couch. I set my phone on the nightstand then got into bed beside her.
She’d been distant ever since that night, and while I wanted her every night, I let her be. But it was hard to sleep in that bed beside her, thinking about her sexy legs in those little shorts, and not do a damn thing about it. I was in love with this woman, from head to toe, and I wanted to make her mine at every opportunity.
She lay on the other side of the bed, her back to me, the sheets to her shoulder.
I stared at her silhouette in the dark, the outline of her petite waistline in the moonlight poking through the closed curtains. “Baby.”
“Hmm?”
“I’m tired of this.”
She remained quiet.
“I’m trying to be patient, but I’ve never been the patient type.”
Nothing.
I shifted to her side of the bed, pressing my chest against her back and pulling her tight against me. My face was against her hair, smelling her shampoo and perfume mixed together in a floral scent. With that perky ass pressed against me, my dick hardened, wanting to dive between her folds and explore her wet paradise. My arm hooked over her chest to anchor her against me, to keep her secured tightly like she was light enough to float away. My lips brushed away the strap of her shirt so I could kiss her shoulder.
She remained still.
“Talk to me, baby.”
There was a long stretch of silence, so long that it seemed like she would ignore me. “I’m still shaken up.”
“There’s nothing to be scared of.”
“If you hadn’t gotten there…” The sentence was never finished because she couldn’t find the words…or didn’t want to say them.
The implications were heavy in her voice. “But I did get there. Don’t waste your heart worrying about what-ifs.”
“It’s more than that…”
“Then tell me.”
She lay there for a moment before she rolled over, bringing her body toward mine so we were face-to-face.
I hooked her thigh over my hip and made her little shorts ride up until they fit like underwear. I squeezed one of her ass cheeks, feeling that perkiness right in the palm of my hand. I cared about her feelings, but it was hard to focus on her emotions when she was the sexiest little thing I’d ever laid eyes on. Ever since I’d manned up and told her I loved her, the steel bars that had restricted me had been shattered. I felt free, and all I wanted to do with that freedom was make love to her.
“I don’t know who I am anymore.” Her eyes carried a sadness so heavy even I couldn’t lift it.
My desire suddenly evaporated. “Occupation and identity aren’t the same thing. Your career is a part of who you are—but not all of who you are.”
“But it’s all I wanted for so long.”