Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
"Delia..." Dean warns, but I don't care. Defying him makes me nervous, but not as nervous as the sound of the front door knob turning.
I squeal, sprinting naked down the hallway and slamming the guest bathroom door shut. I throw the water on, jumping underneath it before it even has time to warm up. The water is so cold it's almost painful, but once it hits my skin, I can finally breathe.
I'm good. He didn't catch me. Everything is fine.
Except, of course, for the fact that I'm in a freaking shower, hiding from my ex-boyfriend, legs still quivering from the orgasm his dad just gave me.
And I didn't even get to have my coffee.
As the water slowly warms, I can hear the two of them in the living room talking and flinch as the voices raise in clear argument. I guess Dean is still pissed that Brody left me last night, even if it meant he and I...
Well...
Made out a lot. And Dean went down on me. How am I ever going to live this down?
"FINE!" Brody screams loud enough for me to hear. "I'll go stay at a fucking hotel then! Should I even worry about coming back for dinner tomorrow?"
"Do whatever the fuck you want tomorrow." Dean's voice is cooler, more in control. "But for now, get your shit and get out of my house."
I listen, frozen, as the front door slams again. A few moments later, there's a knock on the bathroom door.
"Come on, princess," Dean calls. "You can't stay in there all day. Open the door."
"I will!" I call back. "In a minute."
He growls, and even though he can't see me, I flinch. I have a feeling that's a sound I will be getting used to. "Open. The. Door."
I will absolutely not open the door. "Um, actually, I was thinking..."
Dean’s voice cuts through the wooden door with ease. "You’re not going to pull back on me now, Delia.”
"No, that's not it, but...I think maybe it would be a good idea if I just stayed in the bathroom for a while. You know, like a timeout." I know I’m babbling, but he just doesn’t understand how much I need some space to process what just happened…and how much I want it to happen again.
He sounds skeptical. "A timeout?"
"Yeah, like, a punishment for being bad." I know I’m making no sense, but I’m exhausted and rattled from coming so hard I think I left my body for a moment.
There's silence, and I wonder if he's considering it. Then, a dark laugh sounds, and his footsteps fade away. Oh no.
Ten or so minutes later, I step out of the shower, dry off, and quickly get dressed before following him. Dean is sitting at the counter, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand, his steel gray eyes watching me intently. He’s dressed similar to yesterday, the insignia of the police department on his t-shirt and jeans, fitting him so perfectly it could bring a girl to tears.
"So…" I start.
"You thought you could just hide from me?" His voice is weirdly upbeat, especially coming from Dean.
"I..." My mouth feels so dry. I’ve never wanted a glass of water more in my life.
“Let’s start again.” Dean takes a long drink of his coffee and sighs. "Do you know why I call you 'princess'?"
I shake my head.
"Because you are. You're my princess, Delia. Mine. That means that when you're good, you're rewarded, and when you're bad..."
"When I'm bad, I'm punished." All of this seems so surreal. Didn’t I just meet this guy? And now I’m letting him call me his?
Crap…
The bigger problem is, why am I okay with all of that?
He smiles. "Exactly. You're not a kid. You don't need a timeout. You need discipline. And you will get it, from now on, when you're not good."
My legs wobble, and I grip the counter to keep myself steady.
"Now, do you want coffee?"
"I...yeah. And a glass of water.”
"Then go sit on the couch and wait for me. I’ll bring you your drinks, and then we're going to talk."
I do as he says, settling on the couch and crossing my arms over my chest. My pajamas from last night don’t feel like nearly enough clothes around Dean, which is stupid. He’s already seen me naked.
A moment later, Dean hands me a cup of coffee, black, the way I like it. I take a sip, letting the flavor wash over me, and sigh. "So, what do you want to talk about?"
"Let's start with how much Brody knows."
I flush. "Did he see us? Please tell me he didn't."
Dean shakes his head. "No. But I'm sure he has an idea, considering the pillows and blankets gave away that we slept in the living room. And he tried to go to talk to you in the shower, and I almost broke his nose. So yeah...he's not totally stupid."