Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
"I'm tired of living this way, Mila. I'm tired of having to keep shit from her. I'm tired of always watching my back. I'm tired of always worrying that she'll be hurt because of me. Or that you will." He sighs, a sad puff of sound that breaks my heart. "This job is a fucking albatross around my neck." Determination flashes through his hazel eyes, flaring as bright as the sun. "I'm ready to let it go before it drags us all down, baby."
"You love being a cop," I remind him, cupping his face in my hands. "You can't give that up because of me or Tahani. I don't want that, and neither would she." She might not be talking to me right now, but I still know she would never want him to give up his job for her.
"I'm not giving it up," he promises, kissing my palm. "I'll still be a cop. I'll still work for the ATF. I just won't work with the task force any longer. I'll be done with gangs and cartels and all the bullshit that comes with it."
"Is that really what you want?"
"I want to be able to tell my daughter about my job without scaring her. I want her to be able to come and visit me without me having a fucking panic attack at the thought. I want a future with you, one where I can leave the house with you and not have to fucking worry that you're going to be targeted because of me."
I study his face, taking in his earnest expression and the conviction in his voice. He means every word he's saying. I hate that he's had to give up so much time with Tahani out of fear that bringing her here would get her hurt. He's sacrificed so much and fought so hard. I just want him to be happy.
"You want a future with me?" I ask.
He shoots me a crooked smile. "Yeah, baby," he says, running his thumbs along my hips in lazy circles. "Now that I've had you in my house, in my bed, I'm not giving you up. I could have you forever, and it still wouldn't be long enough. You're mine, sweetheart."
"I want a future with you, too," I whisper, blinking rapidly to keep myself from crying.
"Damn right you do," he mutters, pulling me toward him to kiss me hard on the mouth. When he grows hard beneath me, and I start to wriggle on his lap, he growls against my lips and pulls back. "Don't even think about it, Mila," he warns me, panting. "I'm not fucking you again tonight."
"Fine," I huff and roll my eyes at him, though I'm not really annoyed that he's telling me no. I'm tired, my stomach still roils and churns every few minutes, and I'm a little sore from the way he took me earlier.
He growls at me again before pulling me back down in the bed until I'm lying on his chest like usual. Once I'm snuggled up against him, he pulls the covers up over us, kisses my forehead, and then turns off the light.
"Roman?" I whisper a few minutes later, on the edge of sleep again.
"Yeah, baby?"
"Promise you won't quit being a cop?"
"Baby, I swear to you, I'll always be a cop. Nothing is going to change that," he promises me.
"Okay. I love you."
"I love you too," he whispers.
I wake up in the middle of the night with my stomach churning so fiercely I'm afraid to breathe too deeply for fear I'll throw up all over Roman and the bed.
"Mila?" he mumbles, coming awake as I kick the blankets away and roll off his broad chest. He grunts when I accidentally knee him in the thigh. "What's wrong?"
I run toward the bathroom without answering him, barely making it to the toilet before my stomach heaves violently. I drop to my knees and throw up everything in my stomach.
"Jesus Christ, baby," he says from behind me.
I want to tell him to go away because I don't want him watching me throw up, but another wave of nausea hits me, and I'm throwing up again before I can say anything. I hear the sink come on and then shut off.
I'm still heaving when he kneels behind me, lifting my hair. He presses a cold cloth to my neck and rubs my back.
"You okay?" he asks when I finally stop throwing up, sliding an arm around my waist.
I slump against his hard chest, completely drained. My eyes water, and my head hurts from throwing up so hard, but I think I'm done for the moment.
"Baby?"
"I'm okay," I mumble.
He kisses the side of my head and then pulls the washcloth from my neck. I sigh as he presses it to my forehead, allowing it to cool me down. I don't think I'm feverish, but I'm overheated from vomiting.