Series: Sean Moriarty
Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 113805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
“You’ll be late,” I cry out in desperation.
Head bent over my shoulder, Jude breathes heavily against my ear.
I tense, expecting him to push the issue.
He’s never backed off before, no matter how hard I’ve begged or pleaded.
Forcing pleasure on me, regardless.
When he murmurs, “You’re right, angel,” and kisses my cheek, I couldn’t be more shocked.
Pushing up, he slides out of bed.
Taking all his heat with him.
And leaving me shivering in confusion.
Without even looking back at me, he walks to the bathroom. His erection sticking out in front of him.
“What the fuck?” I murmur to myself, surprised by own crushing disappointment.
I got exactly what I wanted…
Yet I feel fucking abandoned.
Rolling onto my side, I pull my knees up to my chest and hear the shower turn on.
He left me.
He fucking left me…
Huffing, I squeeze my legs tighter, waiting for him to reappear. But a few seconds later, the sound of the spray hitting the tiles changes.
He must have stepped into it.
Meaning he’s not coming back.
Does he no longer want me? I wonder.
Is the spell wearing off? Is he getting bored? Will he leave me for good next?
Good, I tell myself.
This couldn’t be more perfect.
I was hoping this would eventually happen. I just didn’t think it would happen so quickly…
Biting my lip, I struggle with all the conflicting emotions swelling behind my ribs.
Since Jude trapped me here, the plan has always been to escape. To take Abel and run the first chance I get.
I just thought we would have more time together before I actually did it.
Shaking my head at myself, I sit up. Coming to the stark realization that I don’t actually want to leave yet.
I’m a selfish bitch who wants to enjoy every fucking crazy second she can get.
Then once I’ve had my fill, I’ll abandon him.
Sliding off the edge of the bed, my feet hit the soft carpet.
I should probably start packing…
I glance at the dresser, full of clothes he’s bought me, and feel a pang of pain mixed with regret.
I don’t know where Abel and I will go or what we’ll do for money.
I’m certainly not crawling back to my uncle. That motherfucker can die in a fire for all I care after all the shit he did to me.
I’ll just have to find a way.
Stalking over to the dresser, I yank open a drawer and stare down at the contents. Stare down at all the expensive stuff he purchased in my size before I even arrived.
Anger suddenly surges me and I see red.
He went through so much trouble, so much time and effort for only a few days?
He moaned words of forever in my ear…
And he’s fucking bored already?
Slamming the drawer shut, I stomp to the bathroom without really thinking what I’m doing.
Only knowing I want to give him a piece of mind.
The moment I walk inside and set eyes on him though, I pull up short. All the angry words I wanted to spit at him die a quick death on my lips.
His wet hair slicked back and his hands pushing against the tile, water snakes down his naked body as he holds his face in the spray.
The way he’s standing, the way he’s arching into the water, perfectly accentuates all his damn muscles.
From his thick biceps down to his rigid abs.
Past that fucking round ass and his tight calves.
There are so many grooves and crevices, my tongue aches to lick the water out of them.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was purposely posing for me.
But the way he’s ignoring me means he doesn’t even realize I’m standing here. Perving on him like a creep.
Then I have the worst thought yet.
He’s totally out of my league.
How could a man like him be obsessed with a woman like me?
Who the fuck was I fooling?
He’s not only gorgeous, he’s disgusting rich.
The entire world is at his feet. He can have anything he wants. Any woman he wants.
And I’m poor, white trash.
I was stupid to ever believe I could hold him. My stomach clenching, I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying.
Jude chooses this moment to lean out of the water. Opening his eyes, he finally sees me.
Jerking a little, there’s surprise on his face.
Proving he didn’t know I was here.
And I can only hope all this shit I’m feeling isn’t on my own face.
I may not have a dime to my fucking name but I still have my pride.
Spinning on my heel, I fully intend to flee the bathroom.
But he has the audacity to ask, “Could you hand me that towel?”
I shoot a sharp look over my shoulder to see him pointing at a folded white towel left on top of the toilet.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him to go fuck himself. He can get his own towel.
But he adds a very sincere, “Please.”