Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 106909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Ream sang right to me, and as I looked around the bar, everyone smiled and looked between Ream and me. He thought it would embarrass me, but it didn’t one bit. Ream had a gorgeous, deep voice that had a slight rasp to it, and listening to him was a gift no matter what was between us.
I slid out from the table and walked toward him. His eyes never left mine as I approached. I stopped a few steps away, closed my eyes, and started moving. Dancing was my thing and maybe he’d done this on purpose because he knew that. I’d dance anywhere if I could. After being shot, I’d had to keep my movements calm instead of my usual crazy-ass dancing or my legs would react.
It was a slow song and I moved unhurried and seductive, his voice urging me on as it spun a web around me and held me captive. Even with my eyes closed, I could feel him watching me and I knew if I opened them his heated gaze would make my knees shake and my belly drop. When his voice drifted off, I stopped and looked at him. His hand rested on the guitar, his body stiff, and there was that dark intensity back in his eyes.
“Kiss her,” someone shouted as the patrons clapped and hooted and hollered.
Ream set the guitar aside then approached me. He looped his arm around my waist and brought me in close. The crowd went wild and yet I didn’t really hear what they were yelling because all I could do was try and maintain some semblance of control when everything in me was screaming to jump him.
He leaned in. “You’re not embarrassed.”
“And you’re not half bad.”
He chuckled. “Thank you. I get by.”
“Kiss that hot piece of ass before I come over and do it for you,” a guy yelled from across the bar.
Ream stiffened and went to move toward whoever shouted. “No.” I put my hand on his neck and curled my fingers in his hair. “Leave it. But, Ream, I can’t kiss you.”
“One kiss. For the crowd.”
“Ream, I’m seeing someone.”
“You guys serious?”
“Not exactly. But kissing another guy, one I’ve … been with before … wouldn’t be fair.”
“So it’s fair that you’re not giving me a chance?”
“Ream.” There was no question we had chemistry, but it didn’t start out that way. Actually, I specifically recalled him saying when we were lying in bed that when he first saw me, he thought I was one of those stuck-up, spoiled, know-it-all bitches.
A second chance was something I didn’t give people because life was too short to waste it with a guy that got scared the second he saw my drugs. He even admitted that it reminded him of his sister and the hospital and his shitty past. He’d proved it to me twice already. He may have stayed at the hospital until I was out of critical condition after I was shot, but he still left me. Friends didn’t do that. He said he cared, but actions spoke louder than words and his actions sucked ass.
“Fuck, man, kiss her,” the same voice shouted, and before I could stop him, Ream leaned in and his mouth stole my words, my body, and my soul. His lips took and at first I sunk deep into him, the crowd’s applause lost to me as I pressed in close, the familiar dance of his tongue, the warmth of his lips that were hard and yet pliant.
Oh God, what was I doing? I violently drew back, breathless and trembling. I stared at him and he was looking completely irresistible with his smoldering eyes and freshly kissed lips.
Then within a second it washed back out to sea as the waitress came over and asked for his autograph. Ream slipped out of my arms and took the pen and paper from the cute brunette. They chatted for a minute while I started back for the table. I didn’t get far before his hand grabbed mine and tugged me back in beside him.
He gave the girl the paper and some bills for our tab and then started toward the door, keeping his hand tight in mine. As soon as we were outside, he stopped abruptly and I slammed into his back.
He was mad. Shit, what the hell? This guy had issues. I was the one who should be furious after he kissed me when I told him we couldn’t.
“Don’t walk away from me.” I went to smart mouth him back, but he was quick, cupping my chin and placing a finger over my mouth. “I mean it, Kat. Friend, girlfriend, or my fuckin’ wife. I don’t want you walking away from me when some other chick is vying for my attention because no matter what we are … you are more important than them.”
Not very often was I speechless, but Ream did it to me. There was no arguing, no smart-ass remark, no discussion; it just was a beautiful thing to say no matter what he was to me.
He made an abrupt nod of his head, as if satisfied that I got what he was saying and wasn’t going to argue the point. Then he let me go and we went home where I escaped into the sunroom, away from Ream and what I was struggling to deny.
***
Her hand stroked my back up and down like a yoyo.
Stop it.
I hated it. They always did that to me after they hurt me.
I gagged then threw up the last of my dinner into the toilet.
She flushed and I watched the water swirl around and around. It was me. It felt like me, helpless to do anything, but submit.
I blocked out her soft words telling me it would be okay. That it wouldn’t be so bad.
I wanted to slam her head into the toilet. She had no clue what I faced week after week.
The shadow appeared in the door, and I spit into the fresh water staring back at me.
I stood.