Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 54645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
I look down at the front of his pants and sure enough, there it is—the thick pulsing outline of his cock, trying to escape from his jeans. And all because of me.
A quick ripple of desire tickles me as I look at it. And I wonder how in the world he can be hard again. So soon.
“Get out of here,” I say with a playful shove. “I can barely walk as it is.”
He takes my hand from his chest and kisses my palm. “Yellow dress today. I saw it in your apartment and brought it here myself.”
I blink back my surprise. “You did?”
“Fucking right. No way I was letting the movers touch that. Wear it for me today. White panties. No thongs; no lace. Nothing slutty. Slutty isn’t bad, but there’s a time and a place for my baby to be a slut for me. Today, I need my baby girl to be pure for her Daddy, we clear?”
The wave of emotions inside me takes the words right out of my head. I want him. So much. But this is so, so wrong. I swallow hard, knowing somehow that I have to answer. And I have to answer in the right way. “Yes, Daddy. We’re clear.”
He likes that. I can see it. He hits me with a cocky wink and then gives me a greedy kiss on the cheek. His stubble scrapes my flesh a little and I nearly whimper in pleasure.
“See you later, baby girl,” he says, and then turns and leaves with his trademark Trent swagger.
As I hear his footfalls grow farther away, I let myself crumple back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling fan slowly spinning above.
The noise of the movers downstairs puts me on edge. I don’t like anybody being in this house with me, because the more people that know I am here, the bigger the risk of Rominovski finding me.
Finding us.
I watch the fan spin, trying to settle my breathing, calm my anxiety. But I can’t. The looming dread is inescapable. Keeping secrets from Trent before last night would’ve been difficult. But now?
Impossible. There’s just no way I’ll be able to hide the truth from him forever. And when I can’t anymore, then what?
The movers move my stuff with military precision, and when I try to help—to grab a box, or my drying rack, or whatever—I get nothing but a curt, “We don’t need your help, ma’am,” before they get on with business.
Feeling a little awkward and weirdly pampered, I make my way into the kitchen for a cherry yogurt. There, at the kitchen table, I find Edward, looking at his phone.
“Morning, soldier,” he says with a friendly smile.
“Morning to you, soldier,” I say back. The cool rush of the fridge air soothes my cheeks and body, still blushing and flushed from when I was in Trent’s arms.
And suddenly, at the thought of him, not even the breath of the fridge is enough to keep me cool.
I push away my fantasies—no, my memories—and make my way to the table where I join Edward. I dip my spoon into the yogurt and look around; the house is perfect, decorated with warm tones of cream and white. Modern but dappled with wood and some antiques here and there. Instagram-ready in every way.
“It’s good being here, knowing this is Trent’s place.” Edward leans back comfortably in his chair. “You know that he and I were in hell together, I’m guessing.”
I shoot him a puzzled look with my yogurt halfway to my lips.
“SEAL training,” Edward clarifies with a laugh. “Not actual hell. Well, I mean, fuck. Kind of.”
I shake my head. “I didn’t know.”
Edward nods. “Yeah. I got hurt, bad. Broke my leg in three places. We were out in the Blue Ridge Mountains, East Jesus of nowhere. Not a fucking thing out there except mosquitoes. We were on a survival night. I went down the side of a hill, lost my pack, my beacon. The whole fucking deal.”
“Oh god,” I say, now again with my spoon hovering.
Edward nods. “No shit. Shock set in. I was so fucking cold. My leg bleeding, bone sticking out. Four miles to safety, easy. I was losing consciousness but somehow managed to call out one last time.”
“And? They found you?”
“They didn’t do shit. Trent did. I was going in and out but I remember him saying, ‘Hold on. You’re not going to die tonight. Not on my watch.’ He tied my leg with a field support and carried me out of there. By himself.” Edward looks down at his own body. He’s a big guy. A very big guy. As big as Trent or maybe even bigger. “Carried me back. Made sure I was stabilized. And then went back to finish his fucking mission. Unbelievable.”
I swallow hard, staring at the polished table. That’s my brother he’s talking about. My lover. My Daddy. My everything. Unbelievable is right.