Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 134654 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134654 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
The skull and abacas logo teased fear into some people, believing we were lawlessness and terror. What they didn’t see was an extended family, and I’d just been handed the keys to their home.
I sighed, staring at the ceiling.
How much longer will he be?
My ears strained for any noise of his boots on the stairs. My instincts fanned out for any prickle that he might be close.
I was tempted to go down to find him—it’d been forty minutes, not the ten that he promised—but something inside me hesitated.
I didn’t want to interfere.
Losing the trade this afternoon did something to him I couldn’t understand. And unfortunately, this was one time I couldn’t help. He had to fix it. He had to come to terms with whatever injury shadowed him. All I could do was be there for him when he healed.
The house breathed around me, hugging me with its white painted walls. So many memories already existed in this place: the trials of convincing Arthur I was the girl from his past. The fear of being sold. The blankness of amnesia.
The echoes of everything that’d passed hovered in the air, twisting and twining, waiting for new memories to play with.
And tonight I plan on making new memories.
I planned on doing something for Arthur that had never been done before.
The bedroom door suddenly swung wide.
Arthur appeared.
His boots were off, his feet bare as he moved silently over the carpet. His eyes feasted on my nakedness and I deliberately wriggled, letting the front of my jacket gape, hinting at nipples and flesh. “I missed you.”
His lips quirked as his eyes blackened. “I can see that.”
Unashamedly, I spread my legs a little. “I missed you a lot, in fact.” The color of my tattooed leg looked almost garish against the white of his bedspread. I was a splash of color on a simple cloud.
He didn’t reply, only stared. Taking his time, he drank in my scars and ink—once again making me feel as if I was the most unique woman in the world.
“You were gone awhile.” My skin warmed beneath his gaze. “Are you okay?” I flinched as the question crashed between us. I didn’t want to keep hounding him, but I couldn’t stop my worry.
I’d long since given up trying to forecast the future—guessing what would occur tomorrow, next week, or next year. Life had taught me that things could go disastrously wrong within moments. But I also wasn’t prepared for chaos to win. There had to be structure and Arthur’s head injury was ruining that structure.
He’ll beat it.
We just had to be strong enough to weather all triumphs or tragedies that rested on our timeline.
Arthur ran a hand through his dark hair, pulling it back from his face. “I’m … better.” He smiled gently. “I made back the money I lost this morning. So yeah … I’m okay.” His voice was achingly soft. If I didn’t know him, I would believe his words. But I did know him, and his tone said he was still afraid.
Sitting upright, I scooted onto my knees. “Is there anything I can do?”
His eyes blazed with love. “You’re doing it. Just by being you.” His hands went to his belt. “I couldn’t ask for more.” His gaze latched on to my inner thighs as his fingers pulled the buckle aside, then unhooked the button of his fly.
I stopped breathing.
An electric storm brewed around us, tingling my scalp.
Drifting from my knees to all fours, I prowled to the bottom of the bed and stopped before him. Beckoning him closer with my finger, Arthur obeyed, coming to stand within touching distance.
We didn’t speak as I reached out and stilled his hand.
His skin scorched mine.
He sucked in a breath, turning to stone. “Cleo …”
Shaking my head, I pushed aside his grip.
His large chest rose as his arms dropped woodenly by his sides.
Silence wrapped around us like a blanket as I sat higher on my knees and ran my hands over the planes of his chest. The warm cotton of his T-shirt guided me under his cut, muscles bunching beneath my fingertips.
We match.
My heart skipped.
We wore the same emblem. A perfect mirror image. I was marked forever with his protection and commitment.
Never looking away from him, I bit my lip and pushed the heavy leather off his shoulders. The dense material slipped down his arms, catching on his large hands.
His lips parted as I tugged his hand forward, carefully freeing him so the cut fell to the floor.
We flinched at the soft slap of leather on carpet—the noise seeming to reach out and stroke us with hungry greed. Our breathing ratcheted as I followed the contours of his chest. Hills, valleys, indents, and ridges. Every inch of him impenetrable.
My mouth watered, intoxicated on his perfection. His five o’clock shadow, the long length of his hair, the way his eyes glimmered with acuity.