Series: The Rossi Crime Family Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Cradling her to my chest, her arms wrapped around my neck, I carry her back up to the house. She doesn’t protest, and thank fuck, because all I want is to hold her and tell her how sorry I am.
Once we get closer to the house, I stop, seeing some people are still leaving through the front door. I don’t want to chance running into anybody, so I walk around to the backyard. Just as I reach the patio, I remember the body in the hallway.
Shit, it’s going to take Dev some time to get that cleaned up. Since I don’t want Sophie to have to see him again, even dead, I decide to go to the guesthouse by the pool.
Even in the very dim light, I can see Sophie is looking up at me with confusion though she doesn't ask where I’m taking her. Again, I’m reminded of how much she trusts me. After everything I did today, I am the last person she should trust.
I set her down on her feet when we get to the door and enter the code into the lock box. The alarm disengages, and I hear the lock unlock.
I take her hand into mine, having the urge to just keep touching her, and open the door. I usher her inside with me and flip on the light switch right beside the door.
“Are you tired?” I ask, once again feeling guilty for not making sure she is okay. Is she getting enough sleep? Is she eating? I can’t remember the last time she ate something. I’m supposed to be taking care of her and all I’m doing is being a jerk off.
I consider punching myself in the face.
“Exhausted,” she admits, and I lead her to the bedroom without question. I don’t have to ask her if she wants me to stay with her, I already know she does. She always wants me to stay with her, and I feel fucking gracious to be in her presence now, that she even wants to talk to me after how I treated her.
I exhale slowly, realizing how hard it’s going to be not to lose my temper and control with her if I keep taking these pills. I need them to win my fights, but do I take them at the expense of possibly hurting Sophie again?
I open the bedroom door, and she gasps when her eyes make contact with the large canopy bed. She enters the bedroom with a new found excitement, and I smile seeing how happy she is.
“It’s beautiful,” she exclaims, touching one of the posts. Her fingers run over the wood, and for a moment, I have an image of her tied to the post, myself pumping in and out of her tight little body. I damn near groan, shaking the thought away.
“Yeah.” I look at her face as I strip off my jeans and flip the comforter open so we can get under it. Then I watch her with primal need as she takes her own pants off. The fabric seems to take forever to reach the floor. She usually sleeps in one of my shirts and a pair of sleep shorts, but right now, she’s just in her panties. I expect her to do one of those magic moves where the girl takes their bra off while still wearing their shirt, but she pulls her shirt over her head and throws it onto the floor beside her jeans, leaving her in nothing but her underwear.
Oh, sweet baby Jesus. I almost curse as I take in her nearly naked form. Why does she have to be so beautiful? Her breasts rise and fall with every breath she takes, and her pretty cheeks have a small pinkness to them. I can’t tell if it’s because she’s turned on, embarrassed, or just from all the emotions assaulting her.
My gaze drops over her smooth belly and flaring hips. Her legs are short, but that doesn’t so much matter to me. So long as she can wrap them around my waist, we’ll be fine.
I blink at the thought...then I swallow...then I blink again.
When she reaches around to her back to unclasp her bra, my mouth goes dry. I feel like a teenage boy about to see boobs for the first time, torn between telling her to stop and asking her to hurry up.
She unhooks her bra and lets the straps fall over her shoulders and down her arms. The bra falls to the floor, and there is not a shred of hope inside me that this is going to end well for either of us. Lines have already been crossed, obliterated, and every fiber in my body feels like it’s on fire.
She takes a step toward me on shaky legs, and with a lasting moment of clarity, I shake my head.