Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 125140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
“I’m not an easy person to be with, Stace,” I murmur.
He stays silent.
A large lump forms in my throat. “I understand if you don’t want to fight for us. I’m damaged goods. I couldn’t be with me.”
He turns to face me. “Don’t say that,” he whispers.
“It’s true.” I shrug sadly. “I have more baggage than a 747.”
He pushes the hair back from my forehead and then, with his finger under my chin, lifts my face to meet his. “You’re my damaged goods.”
My eyes tear up at the words I so desperately needed to hear and he kisses me softly. “I have fallen in love with you, Rosh,” he whispers against my lips.
“You have?” I whisper in hope.
He kisses me again. “It’s annoying really.”
I smirk. “Annoying?”
“Well, right now my face is a mess and I should be making an escape plan, but the only thing that is on my mind is being inside my girl.” He grabs my behind and drags me across his hard body.
I smile, wrap my arms around his neck, and I kiss him.
Oh, I love this man. He knows me. He knows how fucked up I am and he is willing to try. Our kiss deepens and he really starts to grind me against the tiles.
“I’m sorry for today. I was so hurt, I couldn’t see straight,” I murmur.
He lifts me and wraps my legs around his waist and holds me up against the tiles. I can feel his tip at my opening.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” He growls.
He brings my body hard down onto his and I groan as I struggle to accept his size.
We stay silent, our eyes locked on each other, and he slowly lifts me and then brings me back down hard so that he hits the end of me. “Trust me and let me love you. Let me protect you,” he whispers.
I nod, unable to speak as his body takes full possession of mine.
“Because I fucking love you and I need you to survive this.”
Our kiss turns frantic and I can’t see straight. He raises his arms to the tiles above my head and really starts to slam into me. The burn is so intense, I can feel every vein of his thick shaft. Every ripple of his muscle deep inside of me makes me crave more. I can’t get enough. I will never get enough of the way he makes me feel, of the way he touches me. He stops suddenly and cups my face with his hand. The water runs down our faces and I feel like I can’t breathe. Our eyes are locked on each other and with the way he is looking at me, it feels like anything is possible. His hand on my face is gentle, his eyes are filled with love, and yet my sex is throbbing from the beating it is taking.
This is love… Stace style.
“So, you know the plan?” Stace asks me for the tenth time as he sits on the end of the bed watching me.
“Yes,” I reply as I stuff my shoes into the overnight bag.
“Tell me what it is.”
“I already told you.”
“Tell me again.”
I roll my eyes in frustration. “I walk into the bank, withdraw all of our money, and then I get into the waiting cab.”
He nods. “Then what?”
“Then I catch the cab here and walk through reception as a decoy and get into the lift, but instead of coming up to the room, I go straight to the basement and get in the car with you and we leave.”
“But I am following you to the bank in case anything happens.”
“Nothing is going to happen. They were searching for us all night. They won’t be up at the crack of dawn stalking banks.”
“They might be.”
“Will you please say the glass is half full for once instead of being so damn negative?”
“I’m realistic, not negative.”
I roll my eyes as I continue packing. “Whatever,” I mumble under my breath. Honestly, there is no use even arguing with him when he’s like this. We have decided that if we want to really disappear, we need to fly to Vegas where Stace has another fake passport contact. Unfortunately, we need money to do this, and if we don’t withdraw all the money now they will easily be able to trace where we go. The guy who made my last passport has obviously ratted us out. It’s no coincidence that they found us. They have traced my bank card usage by matching it with my fake name.
“Are you sure that they don’t know who you really are?” I ask.
“Positive. I have a house and everything set up in Mac’s identity. They think that’s me and my house and have no idea who I really am.”
I shrug. “If you say so.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means my father is an intelligent man. An evil, intelligent man and if he smells a rat he will find out your real identity as easy as pie.”