Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 111768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
"Whatever you say."
"Anyway…" I roll my eyes. "I can't believe you knew he was out there and you didn't do anything about it. You didn't even try to stop him from talking to me."
"You're a big girl. You can handle yourself."
I nearly choke on a drink of water when he says that. For the second day in a row, he let me fend for myself when it came to the police. Old Naz would've never risked it. Old Naz would've micromanaged that shit. "You're sure putting a lot of faith in me these days."
"I trust you," he says.
"You trust me?"
"Of course."
Those words stun me. Maybe they shouldn't after everything, but they do. Trust was always shaky between the two of us, and part of me figured it would just always be an issue, so to hear him say, point blank, that he trusts me, is almost mind blowing.
Although, truthfully, I suppose I've come to trust him, too.
"I married you, Karissa. I wouldn't have actually done that if I didn't trust you with my life. My faith in you was sealed the moment I put that ring on your finger."
"Because I belong to you now."
"No, because you belong with me. I decided to keep you that day, for better or for worse."
"And what happens if I decide someday to no longer keep you? What then?"
"Huh." He stares at me. "Haven't thought about it."
"You haven't?"
"No."
"You seriously haven't considered what would happen if I tried to leave?"
"Not at all," he says. "Back… before… I would've just dragged you right back. But now, if you walk away from me, I suppose I just hope I don't miss you."
"You hope you don't miss me?"
"Yeah, but I don't think it would be a problem," he says, pushing away from the counter, strolling toward me. "After all, I'm a pretty good shot."
I gasp when it strikes me what he's saying, and he grabs ahold of me, wrapping his arms around me, laughing. He's laughing.
"Not funny, Naz," I growl, trying to push him off, but he refuses to let go. "Not funny at all."
"Ah, come on," he says, kissing the top of my head before loosening his hold. "Admit it… it was a little funny."
I glare at him, not at all amused, which only makes him laugh even more.
"Look, you really want to leave me, Karissa? Then I suppose I just… watch you walk away." He shrugs, as if it's just as simple as that, as if he'd just let me go. "Are you trying to tell me something? Planning your escape?"
"No, of course not," I say, shaking my head. "I don't even know why I'm asking. I think the detective just threw me off with what he said."
"Well, it's nonsense," he says. "You've had ample opportunity to send me up the river… you could've easily gotten me locked up long ago just by opening your mouth. I didn't need to marry you to gain your silence. You've given it to me from the start. If you didn't turn on me then, when you had plenty of reason to, I trust that you won't do it now, ring or no ring. I married you, Karissa, because I love you. Nothing more, nothing less."
As many times as he's said those words… I love you… it still makes my stomach flutter to hear them come from him. The butterflies soar. He's not an outwardly emotional person, not at all, so when he says it, I know he means it.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I reach up on my tiptoes and kiss him. His lips are soft, sweet. His tongue tastes like peppermint. "I love you, too, you know."
"I know."
My gaze shifts past him, out into the backyard. Killer is running around, excitedly chasing butterflies, wanting to play with them. He'd never dare hurt one. Naz usually puts him out there whenever it's just the two of them alone.
My guys, they still aren't quite fond of each other.
"So I guess you really did do nothing today," I say, turning back to Naz, looking him over, as my fingertips tinker with the hair at the nape of his neck. He's dressed nice. He smells like Heaven, woodsy and aquatic and so very him. He even shaved this morning. It's a rare occurrence, Naz being completely clean-shaven. "I don't know why you bothered to even put on a suit."
"I've told you before… I don't need to do anything to put on a suit. I'll put one on to answer the door, to order take-out, to sit at my desk… hell, I'll put one on just to fuck."
A chill rolls through me, tingling creeping up my spine. "That sounds nice."
"Which part?"
"Fucking."
"Huh." He leans down, his nose brushing mine. His cheek comes to rest against my cheek as he whispers in my ear, "Is that what you want? Me to take you upstairs and fuck you silly, Jailbird?"
It still gets to me whenever he calls me that. Jailbird. I can feel my body flushing, every inch of me warming in anticipation. "Uh-huh."
I can barely get the response out. My voice is breathy, needy. He chuckles quietly at my obvious reaction, his lips lightly skimming along my skin, his teeth grazing my earlobe. My eyes close, feeling his hands slip beneath my shirt, stroking the skin along the small of my back before his rough fingertips trail up my spine.
I lose myself in the moment, practically panting and close to just climbing him like a fucking mountain, when a loud noise echoes through the kitchen around us, startling me. My eyes snap open. I instantly pull away.
It's a song, I realize, after a second, as it continues blaring.
Hotline Bling.
What the ever-loving fuck?
Groaning at the interruption, Naz reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. The ruckus... the song... is coming from it.
Seriously. What?
He casts me a look as he presses a button on the phone, silencing the sound. I think he might've hung up on the caller, with the way he just stands there, but he brings the phone to his ear after a moment. "Hello."