Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 106292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Chapter 13
OAKLEY
The late morning sun shines through Zade’s floor-to-ceiling windows, and I squint into the light, not ready to wake. A soft groan pulls from deep in my throat as I make the ugly just-woke-up face. I take a deep breath, but the restriction across my chest has my body stiffening. Zade’s strong, tattooed arm is locked over me, spooning me from behind, his strong thigh wedged between my legs and his rock-hard cock against my ass.
My God, he’s big. I wonder how it would feel . . . No. I can’t go there.
As if my slight movement woke him, Zade’s body stiffens right along with mine, both of us locked in awkward silence. But there’s nothing I love more than an awkward silence. “Wow, Bossman,” I say, grinding my ass against his cock. “I didn’t know you felt this way about me.”
He snatches his arm back so fucking fast it’s almost comical, and I watch as he springs out of bed and strides right out the door, adjusting his cock in his pants. I can’t help but laugh after him, more than amused. Hell, it almost makes all of this worth it.
The door slams loudly behind him, and for the first time since before dinner last night, I’m finally left alone with my own thoughts to keep me company. I get up to pee, and just because I’m not a complete bitch, I clean up after myself in the bathroom, mopping up the puddle on the floor. With my clothes dry, I get dressed and finally start to feel like myself again, despite the rips and tears throughout my clothes. Until Zade decides to grace me with the return of my things, this will have to do. Though after my rampage through his closet with the scissors yesterday, I might be waiting a little longer than I anticipated.
After brushing my hair and shoving it into a messy bun, I trudge back out to the bedroom, grabbing the two charcoal drawings I was working on yesterday and taking them out to the kitchen counter. Placing them down on the counter, I help myself to breakfast while listening to the rhythmic sounds of Easton and Dalton in the gym.
Sawyer stands out on the balcony, yelling at someone on the phone, and I’m more than ready to eavesdrop on his conversation when Zade strides out of his home office and fixes me with a scathing glare. Apparently, he’s a little embarrassed about his need to hold me in his sleep. It’s a bit of useful information to store away in a safe place for a later date.
“See something you like, big boy?” I tease, enjoying this way more than I should. He rolls his eyes and ignores me, and I let out a heavy sigh. I can’t help but notice how the night’s rest did him wonders. His face has already begun to heal, even though there’s still a long way to go. “Chill out, Bossman. I’m just having a little fun. Why have you always got such a big stick lodged up your ass? You gotta remove it before it punctures a lung.”
He stops by the kitchen counter and braces his hands against it, more than ready to say something about my attitude this morning, when his gaze drops to my drawings. For some reason, it makes me nervous. He studies the image of his hand lodged deep in my chest, and his body stiffens before slowly lifting his stare back to mine. “Is there something you need?”
“Yeah, I um . . .” I swallow, giving myself a moment to try and remember what I was wanting to ask him. “I was hoping I could go sit on the roof to finish these.”
“Were you planning on jumping?”
I give him a hard stare. “Only you would think to ask a woman if she plans to jump off the top of your stupid hotel.”
“You didn’t answer the question, Lamb.”
I scowl and roll my eyes. “No, Zade. I’m not planning on plunging to my death today. Besides, if I were going to do it, I’d make it a little more exciting than that. Something that really inconveniences you, you know? Maybe right before your big showdown . . . I’d let you get your hopes up that you’re about to get everything you want, and then . . . whoops. Fatal seizure right there on the floor, frothing mouth and everything.”
“And you say I’m fucking sick.”
“Roof, Zade. Yes or no?”
He lets out a heavy sigh and glances back at my drawings. “Yeah, whatever. But Dalton’s going with you. He’s probably down to shoot some hoops anyway.”
Zade takes off toward the home gym, probably to tell Dalton he’s heading up to the roof with me. As he disappears around the corner, I can’t help but turn my gaze in the direction of his very empty home office. I bite my bottom lip, wondering what kind of information he’s got stored in there.