Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 102693 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102693 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
“Stop looking at me like that.” His lashes fan over his high cheekbones as his pupils focus and unfocus on my lips.
“Like what?” I whisper, watching his. His jaw distracts me momentarily, carved from stone and created for a statue that’s to never perish.
“Like you’re dumb enough to spread your legs and let me do every wicked thing I’ve ever wanted to do to you.”
My eyes snap back up to his, and I rest my head back against the wall. “Maybe I am.”
His thumb presses against my bottom lip. “No. You’re not. You know how I know?” The tip of it slips between my lips and I flick my tongue over the cushion.
His lips rise as he bares his teeth, a feral hiss escaping. It shouldn’t be attractive, something so animalistic and violent, but I find myself drawn to him. Every single bit of me is drawn to him, needing his touch like a child needs its father.
“How, Brantley? How do you know?”
His fingers curl around the back of my neck as he forces my face up to his. I’m on my tippy toes now. No matter how rough he is with me, I feel safe. He’s cruel and ruthless, but it’s his restful touches that gain my trust. His head dips down, his lips grazing mine. “Because it’s why I tolerate you.” Then he releases me, turning and walking back into the bedroom. Suddenly air is back in my lungs and the clothes are on the hangers and there’s music playing loudly from somewhere outside. I notice everything in full force as if whatever just happened between us was as ferocious as Brantley. He doesn’t just command energy, he takes it, whether it’s for him to take or not.
My shoulders sag in defeat as I slide out a clean set of pajamas—a white camisole and tie-dyed shorts, before padding my way into the room we’re sharing. Brantley’s kicking off his boots and lying back on the bed by the time I make it from point A to point B, aka the bathroom. With no doors or curtains for privacy and nothing but the freestanding wall that’s dividing the space in the bedroom and the bathroom, I undress, letting my clothes pool around my feet. He must have hit the lights down in the room because the ambiance of it is dim, with the glass wall overlooking the forest outside. I slide into the scalding hot shower and rub the soap suds over my skin, cranking my neck while looking up at the stars through the skylight glass. Tears prick the corner of my eyes and I don’t know why. My heart is heavy as I finish up in the shower, wrapping a towel around my body. I step out when I see a dark shadow zip past the entry. I step forward, leaning around the corner to see who it was when I see Brantley’s leg on the bed.
Weird.
Quickly dressing and making my way to my side of the bed, I pull the covers back while Brantley looks up at me from his phone. His chest is bare, exposing the tattoo over his left pec, his hair a messy pile on the top of his head.
“What?” His tone is less patient, and I already know he’s in a foul mood.
I pick up my brush from the bedside table and run it through my hair. “Tell me about the first girl you had sex with.”
His mouth opens, and then closes, and then opens. “No.” Then he goes back to his phone.
I slide into the cool sheets, relishing in how they feel against my smooth, exposed skin. Turning on my side to face him, I tuck my hands under my cheek. “What does it feel like?” I know he’s already in a grumpy mood, but that literally has never bothered me.
His eyes focus in front of him, as if he’s taking a few seconds to collect himself, before they collide with me. “What the fuck do you mean? Go to sleep.”
“I mean, what does it feel like?” I run my tongue over my lip.
“It’s fucking painful for you, so don’t get any ideas. Go to sleep.”
“Really?” I ignore his commands to sleep. “Well.” I yawn, closing my eyes. “I, for one, can’t wait to see what all the hype is abou—”
The words barely leave me before fingers are around my cheeks, squeezing so hard my lips pucker. Slowly, I peel my eyes back open lazily, and if I could smile, I would. I’m faced head-on with wrath. Eyes wild, lips snarled, and veins pulsing through the soft flesh of his neck.
“First of all, don’t fucking play with me, because you will always lose, and secondly, no one, and I mean no one, will ever come close enough to be able to fuck you.”