Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 114260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
I do my job with only one eye toward the party, though.
As always, my main focus is Violet.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re smothering?” she asks, sliding her hand into my back pocket as the evening winds down. She rubs her chin against my chest so briefly she’s like a cat scratching an itch, before she resumes her professional demeanor.
“You’re the one grabbing my ass in public and painting me with your smell as if to warn off any potential predators.”
She reaches for my collar, and I look into her mesmerizing eyes the color of amethyst.
“I’ve got claws, and I’m not afraid to use them.”
“Mmm. Is that a promise?”
She grins, and her belly growls as Joe comes into the room. “House secured. That’s a wrap.”
“Perfect. How late’s Sake and Sushi open?”
She grins. “Late enough.” It’s her favorite, and I’m kinda partial to the spring rolls myself.
I want to keep her happy. I want to keep her safe.
I want to keep her right here by my side.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Violet
Cain’s troubled tonight, but it’s not out of the ordinary for him. I know this is just the way he is sometimes.
I blame it on his past.
Sometimes he wakes in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. He paces the room we share and stares out at the ocean. He tries to be quiet so he doesn’t wake me, but I know him too well, and I often wake when he does.
We haven’t known each other for long, but it feels like it’s been much, much longer. Sometimes there’s a depth to our relationship… an understanding, one might say… that makes me feel like I’ve known him for years.
After dinner at Sake and Sushi, my belly is full and I’m tired from the night’s events. Cain’s got a frenetic sort of energy driving him, though, and he hasn’t even stripped for bed.
I don’t ask him what’s on his mind. If he wants to tell me, he will.
I’m lying belly-down on the bed, the pillow tucked under my cheek, when I feel the bed sag beside me from his heft. He’s the largest man I’ve ever known, pure muscle, yet he walks quietly and folds himself onto the bed with surprising grace.
“You move so quietly, I hardly know you’re there,” I say with a smile, my eyes still closed. I feel his hand come to rest on the base of my skull, his fingers gently stroking my hair.
“Comes with my line of work. It pays to move silently so no one ever knows you’re coming.”
That makes me wonder… is there more to his “line of work” than I know?
“Clothes that don’t rustle and rubber soles on your shoes?”
“Exactly.”
We sit in silence for a moment while he runs his fingers through my hair. Finally, he breaks the silence.
“I’m heading down to the target range.”
“Aw, without me? No fair.” I’m only teasing him, though, and he knows it. Other guys play video games or watch YouTube to relax. Cain hones his skills at the target range. It’s no wonder he’s such a good shot.
“We’ll go back tomorrow. I’ve got a new toy for you to play with.” Given how he uses the range, he could mean anything from a new handgun to a new riding crop.
I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open, though. “I’ll look forward to it.”
He leaves a gentle kiss on my forehead before he leaves, and after I hear the door close behind him, I fall into a deep sleep.
Hours later, I hear the door open, and roll over. The room’s gotten cooler, and I shiver before I draw the blanket up over my shoulder. Cain quietly dismisses the guard he keeps at the door when he isn’t with me—both his sister, who lives here with us, and I always have a guard with us—and closes the door behind him.
“How’d it go?”
His voice is raspy and low when he responds. He hasn’t spoken for hours, and he’s tired now, too. “You’re supposed to be asleep.”
I prop myself up on the pillows and open one eye. “I was, but you know this is my favorite part of the day.”
Even in the dim light, I can see the smile that ghosts his lips.
“Snuggling in bed with me?” Cain doesn’t “snuggle.” He kisses, he caresses, he holds me tight, but “snuggling” is too gentle a term for a man made of steel and iron.
“Nah,” I say with a wink. “Watching you strip.”
I’m not lying.
He’s already stripped down to a T-shirt but still wears his dress pants from earlier in the night. I watch in silence as he sits on the edge of the desk chair and unties his shoes. Next, the socks, and his belt. I swallow when he folds it before he lays it over the back of the chair. I have vivid memories of what he’s done with that belt.