Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 80507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Only feel.
Him.
Everywhere.
All at once.
His eyes flickered to my mouth again. His hands gripped the counter with so much strength that his fingertips were white. He leaned forward, and every muscle in his body was flexed. Making me lick my lips, ready to meet him halfway despite all the reasons I shouldn’t.
Very valid reasons.
He would only break me again, wouldn’t he?
But how did you break something that was already broken and unfixable? Like a puzzle with too many missing pieces?
“Eden.” My name fell like a promise from his lips as they slowly grazed mine.
Until we heard a voice screech, “MAMA!”
CHAPTER TWENTY
“If you’re not a hero, does that make you a villain?” —Alex Flinn
Eden
Naz screeched, and we both jerked apart, Romeo nearly against the wall, me nearly colliding with the bathroom mirror.
“Mama, it’s been five minutes!”
Had it though?
Because to me, it felt like an eternity, those few moments where our lips had touched.
Romeo’s lips pulled into an amused smile.
Naz rounded the corner and put his hands on his hips. “Mom, if I don’t get to bed on time, I’ll get sick, remember? You said if I don’t go to bed at the same time I’m going to—”
“I know what I said,” I interrupted.
“Uncle Romeo, Mama’s face is super red. Is she getting sick? Should she go to bed too?”
Romeo licked his lips and bent down until he was at eye level with Naz. “You’re right; she probably should go to bed early…”
I crossed my legs.
He was driving me insane!
One minute I wanted to run him over with my car, the next, I was thinking about an early bedtime with his mouth between my thighs.
Tristian had never…I’d told him I didn’t like it.
Had I just been saving that for someone else?
For Romeo?
And why was I even thinking about that right now?
“Mama?” Naz waved a hand in the air. “Did you hear what I said?”
“Absolutely.” I cleared my throat and hopped down from the counter, then nearly collided with Romeo. He steadied me on my feet. “Let’s get you to bed, buddy.”
Romeo released me but not before squeezing my arm as if to say “later.” Did I want there to be a later? My body and mind were at complete war with each other. I led Naz into his room, said his prayers with him, and kissed him on the head. I grew up with cameras all around me, so the ones that I knew were in his room, thanks to Romeo, didn’t bother me.
Exhaustion had already hit. I went back to my room, only to hear the shower running.
“Strip,” Romeo said as he came out of the bathroom. “Now.”
“I am not having sex with you!” The nerve of that idiot! A kiss didn’t mean naked time! I could just strangle him!
His lips pressed together in an amused smile as he approached me. Leaning in close to my mouth, he whispered, “I don’t remember asking you to.”
“What?”
“Have sex.” He pecked the tip of my nose like I was a little girl, a child, and before I could stop myself, I was on him, trying to attack, strangle maybe, who knew?
I’d finally lost it.
With a laugh, he grabbed my leg, twisting me around until he could pry me free. Throwing me on the bed next, he swiftly hovered above me.
I surrendered.
Panting.
My chest rising and falling.
Waiting.
For who the hell knew what…
“You’re exhausted, Red. Let me put you to bed.”
“I’m not a child.” I straight up pouted.
“You literally just tried to attack me. If you were standing, you’d probably stomp your feet too.”
“Would not.”
“Would too.” He winked, grinning in that Romeo Sinacore sort of way.
For a moment, we both stared at each other. It was like old times before everything turned confusing, frustrating, ugly.
He was the first to break our mirroring thoughts.
“I missed you, Red. A lot.”
“Don’t.” Tears filled my eyes. “Please don’t.”
“You want me to lie?”
“Lies hurt less than truths.”
“Eden.” He kissed my forehead. “The lies are what separated us, the truth hurts, but it’s the only thing that will eventually set you free.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing has changed. I’m still no good for you.”
“Yet here we are. In the same place we’ve always been. You say that lies are what separated us, but now truths are separating us as well? I don’t understand. What are you keeping from me?”
“What I have to in order for you to move on.”
“Move on from what?”
“Me.”
That one word hurt more than laying my husband to rest.
He pulled me to my feet, making quick work of slipping my shirt over my head.
I stood there in a trance.
Stunned.
Angry.
Happy.
Guilty.
My leggings came next, then socks, panties. My bra somehow came off. He was picking me up into his arms and setting me in the steaming shower.
I flinched when he followed.
Squeezed my eyes shut when he started rubbing his hands all over my body, washing me, cleansing me. It felt like a holy moment, one where you don’t speak your confession for fear that you won’t stop once you start.