Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 64640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
“Let me,” I offer.
“I’m not having sex with you,” she blurts. I fight the smirk touching my lips at her outburst. “I can see you. You know that, right?”
I tear the shirt instead of trying to lift her arms.
She laughs and shakes her head. “We could have gotten that off without tearing it.”
“I’m rich. I can afford another one,” I tell her, then motion to my underwear she is still wearing.
“I can get that.” She pulls them down, stepping out of them before she treads into the shower. She doesn’t care that she’s naked in front of me now. “Did you sleep last night?” she asks as I lean against the wall, watching her. She grabs the soap and starts lathering it up over her body.
“I didn’t.”
“Why?” she asks.
“Because every time I attempted to stop touching you, you would twitch.” Her hands pause their washing, and she locks eyes with me. “And if I fell asleep, I could have rolled over and hurt you.”
“You never cared about hurting me before,” she points out.
“That was different. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I was trying to please you, which, if you have forgotten, I did… Twice. Actually, you came more times than that.”
Those eyes that set my fucking heart alight turn away from me.
I take a moment to scan her perfect body.
“You make me angry. You…just you and all that you are,” she says. “We could never work. Not because I think you are fucking crazy, but because I am too. And two people equally as crazy as each other simply won’t work. It would be a disaster. I need a man who calms me, not one who tries to strangle me.” She steps out of the shower, and I hold the soft towel out to her. “And I would never ask you not to be who you are because that’s only asking for trouble in the long run. So why even attempt to commit now when we both know how it will end?”
“You don’t know how it will end,” I argue. “And I didn’t ask you to marry me. I want to fuck you and fuck you a lot.”
She laughs and shakes her head as she steps closer to me. I’m careful not to touch her or to hurt her.
“I see good in you, even knowing who you are and what you do. Tell me, Zuko, does the hunter love the hunt?”
“I do. Very much so,” I answer truthfully.
“And I want a normal life. As normal as I can get, that is.”
“No such thing. Only fools believe in that.” I open the bathroom door and see Louise sitting on the bed, waiting for us.
“Your house is boring,” she states matter-of-factly, making Alaska laugh and then grunt in pain.
“Shit, don’t make me laugh. That hurt,” Alaska wheezes.
“What’s wrong with my place?” I ask.
“It’s boring. You have barely anything here. And we know you have money because Alaska here spent it. Maybe you should have asked her to spend some of it on things for your house.”
“It’s very…” Alaska pauses to think of the right word as she sits on the bed, “Zuko,” she finally finishes, smiling.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.
“It’s just…you aren’t flashy. You always dress in black. There’s never any color. Nothing you wear is flashy, yet we both know you have the money like Louise said.”
“I don’t need material things. That’s what gets people killed. I should know.”
Louise’s eyes go wide, and she stands from the bed probably not expecting him to admit that in front of her. “Okay, I’m going to go. Call me when you want to go home or if you need anything,” she says, waving as she walks out.
Alaska motions to the empty wall across from the bed. “You could at least have a TV in here.” She groans, obviously forgetting I took my television to her place.
Well, I guess I’m ordering a television.
TWENTY-FOUR
Alaska
He doesn’t let me go home until the following day, though I can’t say I put up much of a fight either. It was nice to have someone care for me. I can’t remember the last time I had that kind of treatment. Or if I have ever had it, for that matter.
Zuko is standing at my door, one of my bags that Louise brought over clutched in his hand.
“I’ll bring the TV over,” he offers. I fight the smirk on my lips. He brought me the television yesterday from his house so I wasn’t bored.
“It’s yours. Leave it in there.”
“I don’t watch TV.”
“You did.” I saw him watching the shows I had on.
“That’s because if I sat there and watched you, you would think I’m a stalker.”
I laugh, and he raises a brow. “What?”
“A stalker. That’s all you’re worried about being perceived as? I think of a lot worse when it comes to you.”