Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
If he didn’t just say my name, I’d be looking around to see who he was talking to. That’s just odd. I don’t want to sit on the floor.
“Um. I usually just sit there,” I tell him, pointing to the space free by his side.
Walking over to him, he pats his knee. “Lexi, sit.”
I suddenly feel like a dog being called to heel. It’s humiliating and completely degrading. I don’t want to start our day with a fight though, so I move next to him and say, “I’ll just sit in my normal spot,” while attempting to park my ass on the cushy sofa.
Just as my butt descends, he hooks an arm around my waist and pulls me down to the pillow between his feet. He mutters, “That’s better.”
My jaw steels.
This is my house. And I’ll sit where I damn well want to! This is absurd! Why am I allowing this?
I know he likes to be in control, but this is ridiculous.
Uncomfortable and rigid, I open my mouth to speak when he leans down and whispers in my ear, “I think you’ll find I usually get what I want.”
My brain’s mouth gapes.
The fucking nerve!
Suddenly, his hands come down on my shoulders and he rubs them firmly. My rigid posture collapses, my head falls forward, and I moan low in my throat. He says, “You work too hard. Got knots all over. You need a break. Let the little shits fend for themselves a while. Take some time off.”
I mumble, “They aren’t little shits.”
“Yeah, they are, babe. I know this because I used to be one of them. My caseworker was an asshole, though. Bitch used to hound me all the damn time ‘bout growing up and getting a job. Then when I got a job, she demanded that I quit.”
That’s unusual. My brow furrows. “What job?”
“Dealing weed.”
Laughter bursts out of me. “Oh, sweet lord. You would’ve been a handful. I’m glad I wasn’t your caseworker.”
“Baby, if you were my caseworker, I would be on the straight and narrow. And I would’ve done that shit just to impress you. Just like Mickey does.”
I smile. “How is Mickey? He doesn’t visit anymore.”
Bliss flows through me as Tony’s strong hands work my muscles into a pulp. He says, “Yeah, that’ll be my fault. I’m keepin’ him busy. Giving him lots a stupid shit to do. Things that really don’t even need to be done. I just don’t want him back on the streets dealing for easy money. I don’t want him to be what I am. I want him to be better. He’s gonna get a degree and be someone. Mark my words. The kid is smart.”
I know Michael is smart. He has so much potential. What I originally thought was a bad idea has turned into something I’m grateful for. I’m glad he’s working with Tony. He can learn a lot from him.
They can learn a lot from each other.
“Well, tell him to visit me. Mama Bear misses her cub.”
His hands still, and using his knees for leverage, I stand, shrugging out the kinks in my neck. Taking my hand, he spins me towards him, brings me between his open legs, and pulls me close. Looking up at me, he utters quietly, “You gonna listen next time I ask you to do something?”
Thankful for my shoulder rub, I reply breathily, “Yeah.”
His lip twitches. “Good girl.”
And I think I just fell more in love with this man.
“Angel, what is all this?” I ask, shoving a handful of chocolate into my mouth, peering at the bags and bags of groceries she and Happy trudge through the door and into the kitchen.
She yells out, “Shit! I forgot the damn milk!”
I can all but hear her pout from my place at the foot of the stairs.
Making my way to the kitchen, as soon as I see her standing in the middle of the room with a pout and her arms crossed, I smirk. “What’s the matter?”
She utters dejectedly, “I was attempting to be a good girlfriend and make you dinner and now it’s ruined, all because I forgot the freaking milk.” Walking over to her, I open my arms and she falls into me, muttering into my tee, “I’m sorry, babe. I was trying to do something nice.”
“It’s okay. It was the thought that counts, yeah? Anyways, I can drive you back to the store if you’re still up to cooking?”
Looking up at me with goo-goo eyes, she whispers, “Would you?”
I haven’t been to the grocery store in an age.
“Sure. Let’s go.”
And I was about to be reminded of why.
Tony finds a parking spot at the local grocery store and we both hop out of the car. Holding his hand out to me, I take it eagerly with a smile and all but skip to the entrance.