Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 120031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Because she hadn’t met the expectations of her family, Eli thought. Fuck, he loathed those bastards. “Hear me when I say this, because I need you to get it; to believe it. To me, you are everything. There’s nothing about you that I’d change. Nothing about you that needs to change. I know your family did a number on you, baby, but the lack was never in you, it was in them. I’m not going to say you’re perfect—nobody is. But you’re, like, imperfectly perfect, and you’re perfect for me.”
Casey felt a smile split her lips. Melting, she was melting. “Dude—”
“Don’t even dare call me sweet.” He smoothed his hands up her thighs again. “Such perfect skin. Soft. Bitable. Flawless.”
She frowned. “Flawless? I’ve got scars here, there, and everywhere.” Some from fighting, some from soccer. She wasn’t self-conscious about them—they were just a pattern on her skin, really.
He frowned right back at her. “Scars are not flaws. They can be badges of honor. They can be marks of survival. They can be proof of a person’s craft. But never flaws. All these scars you have speak of your drive, skill, resilience, and fierceness.”
“Now you really are being sweet—don’t even deny it.”
“Woman, I don’t do sweet.” He rolled, pinning her beneath him, and began sliding down her body. “As for the things I plan on doing to you right here …” His mouth curved into a wicked smile. “No one could ever call them sweet.”
CHAPTER NINE
The whistle was blown, signaling the end of the game. Along with the rest of the spectators, Eli jumped to his feet with a cheer. On the field, the Hounds hugged each other, patted backs, and slapped asses.
Adrian blew out a breath. “That was a close game. For just a few minutes there, I thought the Hounds might lose.”
Eli tossed the last of the popcorn into his mouth. “Ye have so little faith.”
Adrian narrowed his eyes. “You were counting on Casey to swoop in and save the day with a kick-ass goal.”
“Which was exactly what she did.” The Arizona Sharks had played exceptionally well and given her team a run for their money. The Hounds were simply better.
“Casey’s team might have scored sooner if one of them hadn’t been unfairly sent off the field,” grumbled Roni. “That ref is a goddamn joke.”
“Unfairly?” echoed Marcus. “The player in question rammed the goalkeeper’s head against the goal post. Four times. While roaring ‘bitch’ at the top of her lungs. And her reason? The keeper stopped the ball from hitting the net, which is sort of her job.”
Roni shrugged. “It’s not as if the keeper passed out or anything. She only bled for, like, five minutes.”
Marcus stared at his mate. “Then I guess that makes it okay.”
Shaya snickered. “To be fair, the ref is a joke. It’s amazing how many fouls he just overlooked. Some of the Sharks should have been red-carded.”
“Yeah, but if he’d given a red card to every player who committed a foul, there’d have been no one left on the field before the game even reached half-time,” said Nick.
“Yeah, that can’t be denied,” Shaya allowed. “It has to be said that watching minks play soccer truly is entertaining. Oh, here comes Casey.”
Eli had already noticed her jogging across the field toward the bleachers. As usual, he lifted her and pressed a kiss to her mouth. “Congrats, baby. You delivered yet again.” He nuzzled her neck and breathed her in. “Hmm, there it is.”
“What?” Casey asked.
“The scent I’ve been missing all day. I’d get a little whiff of it sometimes when my shirt rustled, but it would always fade too quickly.” He studied the gash on her temple, and his wolf growled as he remembered one of the Sharks “accidentally” clawing her. Only two things had stopped Eli from losing his shit—one, it didn’t bleed much; two, the ref gave the Shark a yellow card, since unsheathing claws was never overlooked. “How’s your head?”
Casey flapped a hand. “Fine. I was more pissed by the blonde bitch that kicked my ankle so hard she almost broke it. The ref didn’t even foul her.”
A growl rattled Eli’s chest. “Yeah, I saw that. For a minute there, I thought you were going to elbow the ref right in the face.”
“He would have deserved it.”
“I agree,” said Adrian, patting her shoulder. “Good game, Casey.”
She smiled. “Thanks.” She looked at Eli’s pack mates. “And thank you all for coming.” Once they were done congratulating her and praising her performance, Casey turned to Eli and said, “Just need to go take a quick shower. Meet me in the parking lot?”
“Of course,” Eli told her, setting her back on her feet. He said his goodbyes to his pack mates, who then headed off. But Eli didn’t move until Casey was gone from the field. Maybe it was stupid that he needed to be sure she was safely inside the building before he was willing to leave the bleachers, but whatever.