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)
My ears pricked at the half-truth. “He stole a car?”
His eyes narrowed. “Seriously, after everything that’s just happened you’re pissed over a boost?”
Trying to soften my shock, I smiled teasingly. “Just because you have money doesn’t mean you can take anything you fancy.”
He relaxed, light returning to his strained gaze. “I think you’ll find that’s exactly what having money means. Look it up—I’ll bet you that’s the definition in the dictionary.”
Rolling my eyes, I winced as my head throbbed in response.
Note to self: don’t roll eyes.
“What do you bet me?” I never looked away from him. The moment stretched like a kitten, aged like a fine wine. It was so nice to just be … to enjoy a tiny respite of normalcy.
How long had it been since Rubix took me?
Time felt both longer and shorter.
The past eight years had faded to inconsequential along with every other second that we were apart. Vibrancy only entered my life when he was in it.
“I bet you …” His voice trailed off, thoughts flickering like colors in his gaze. “I bet you an orgasm.”
“A what?” I giggled, ignoring my hammering head.
“You heard me.” He glanced at my lips. “I’ll show you that wealth means you can have anything you want. If I’m wrong and you win, I’ll give you the best orgasm you’ve ever had. I’ll obey whatever you ask. I’ll do whatever you need.”
My heart faltered in favor of a quivering clench. “And if I lose?”
His lips turned up into a wicked smile. “If you forfeit and I win, you have to do what I want. Submit to whatever I desire.” His arms bunched as he planted them on either side of me. “Let me rule you.”
Rule me now.
I shivered as the air crackled with belonging.
I was mostly naked, Arthur was in pain, and Dagger Rose was in flames behind us, but our desire was a stronger force—knitting us together after our time apart.
I’d never get used to the intensity between us.
Untangling my hand from the bedding, I held it up to strike our bargain. “Deal.”
Arthur shook his head, amused. Taking my hand, he shook firmly and rolled his shoulders to slide backward out of the door. “Deal.”
He looked happier than before—less burdened and bruised, but his gaze still held acres of pain. “Oh, and, Buttercup? I already know what I’ll make you do when I win.”
My mind ran amok with sexual scenarios. Blindfold me again? Tie me up?
I know.
The one thing he never let other women do.
A blow job.
My mouth watered at the thought of kneeling before him. Of submitting to him, but ultimately controlling him.
“I like a man who is decisive.”
He laughed quietly.
Leaving me lying on the backseat, he stumbled a little as he stood upright outside the car.
My heart deflated and I scrambled into a sitting position. The world swam for a second, before righting itself. “Wait, Art?”
He ducked again, his eyes connecting with mine. “What?”
Leaning forward, I grabbed his hand and looped our fingers together. “Are you okay? Truly?”
He squeezed my grip, all while trying to untie me from him. His eyes skittered from mine, doing what he did in the past—hiding things from me. I hate that he’s so good at that.
A distance that hadn’t been there before sprang up. It hovered like a warden, overseeing every spoken word and weighing them with meaning.
Managing to free himself, he said gruffly, “I’m fine.”
I shook my head. “No, you’re not.” Shuffling higher, my voice grew demanding. “What happened to you?”
He ignored me, backing away from the vehicle.
My pulse rose. Terrible conclusions filled my head. “Arthur Killian, you tell me right now. I’m done with you keeping things from me.” My voice softened, but my anger didn’t fade. “You already keep so much. Secrets upon secrets. Concerns upon concerns. You’re not alone anymore. How many times do I need to tell you that?”
When only silence replied, I slouched against the leather. “I want to help you but I can’t unless you let me in.”
You didn’t let me in in the past. You didn’t let me console you or brainstorm a solution to stop your abuse.
My hands curled at the thought of how different things could’ve been if he’d confided in me or my father—if he’d trusted others to help him.
“You can’t keep hiding behind walls, Art. Not anymore.”
He ducked, his knees creaking under his large bulk. “I’m not hiding. And you can’t push me to discuss things I’m not ready to.”
“Just like you won’t talk about that night?”
He stiffened. His nostrils flared. “I told you why.”
“You want to be behind closed doors. But why? I know what happened. Let me tell you so you can—”
He shot upright, staggering against the Mercedes and grabbing the roof for support. “It’s so damn simple for you, isn’t it?” He bared his teeth. “Can’t you stop and think for just one second how this is for me? I’m the asshole. I’m the fucking murderer. Is it so wrong of me to pretend that you’ll still want me if we talk about that night? Is it so fucking weak of me to ignore it so I can keep you for a tiny bit longer?”