Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
“Say something,” I whisper.
But he doesn’t.
I feel him shifting.
Every silent second twists my heart into knots.
But when Micah sits up and pulls me in close, I can’t resist.
His warmth is so familiar. I still throb all over with the way he’s used me, touched me, made me feel wrecked and loved all at once.
He pulls me into his arms, so close until we’re skin to skin, intimate yet so very distant.
Warm lips press into my hair, hot breaths curling over my skin.
“Don’t get too attached,” he breathes. “I’m bad for you, Talia. Look at the shit I make you do.”
“Things I want,” I throw back. Part of me feels angry enough to shove him, but I don’t want to break away, so I just hide my face in his shoulder. “Look, I know I’m not like you. I’m young and naïve but I’m not clueless, Micah Ainsley. Sometimes people like getting kinky. You like biting me, and I like being bitten. That’s not corrupting me somehow. I like this mouth.”
I reach up, touching a finger to his lips.
He goes quiet again. I pull back to look up at him, searching his gorgeous, icy face.
“That’s what you’ve been thinking all this time, isn’t it?” I ask. “That you’re tainting me somehow just by sleeping with me.”
“No. Not by sleeping with you.”
“Then how?” I’m almost demanding an answer, my voice breaking. “What do you think is so awful about you that you’re nothing but trouble?”
I look at him and I realize that cold façade hides something else.
Emotion, raw and ugly and almost startled as he looks at me with those stark silver-blue eyes.
“I’m not a real man, dammit. I’m not whole. I’m a black pit, full of hate and violence, pretending to be decent. I didn’t come here to arrest Xavier Arrendell, Talia. I came here to kill him. And once I do that, after it’s done…”
“What? What else will you do?” My heart forms a lump in my throat.
“I won’t be anything at all. Once that’s out of me, there’s not enough left to make a complete person.” He smiles bitterly. “I’ll probably be in jail, anyway.”
Oh my God.
It stings knowing Micah really can’t see himself.
He doesn’t see all the things I see in him: his pride, his bravery, his dedication. That grumpy chip on his shoulder from being belittled his entire life and fighting like mad to prove he’s better than everyone who ever put him down.
That dry, self-deprecating humor.
That heart so full of grief from losing his brother, still weighing as heavily as if it only happened yesterday. Not because he’s empty, but because he feels too much.
The way he’s so gentle with me, even when he’s marking me.
The way he always does the right thing, even when I can tell he doesn’t want to.
And I think he’ll do the right thing in the end when it comes to Xavier, too.
Because even if Micah has a secret darkness, I know who and what he is.
He’s not a killer.
Deep down, I’m sure of that.
I touch his cheek lightly, tracing his cheekbone. It’s so stark, like someone took a piece of white quartz and shattered it into these faceted edges.
“You’re more than that,” I whisper. “I know you’ll probably tell me I’m projecting. That it’s just my fantasy. That I’m seeing you as what I want and not a real person.” I smile wryly. “But if you were my fantasy man, it wouldn’t be so irritating that you use up all the hot water in the morning before I’m awake. If you were all fantasy, I wouldn’t live for the times when you forget to brood and actually laugh. I wouldn’t love your terrible sense of humor or how flipping grumpy you are.”
“Hey.” He lets out a tired laugh. “I’m not grumpy. Just don’t have much time for people’s bullshit.”
“Sometimes you are.” I grin, stroking my thumb over his cheek. “And sometimes you’re just an awkward grumpy-grump who’s been alone for so long you forgot how to be around other people. But I think there’s some part of you trying to remember.”
“C’mon, that’s enough.” His eyes soften, and he presses his cheek to my palm, a hint of stubble teasing against my skin. “You aren’t supposed to be the observant one, Miss Grey.”
“I guess I learned a thing or two from the man who keeps pinning me on my back every night and making me scream.”
“Yeah? Now who has a terrible sense of humor?” But his lips quirk and he holds me closer, leaning in to rest his brow on my temple. “You’re right. I am fucking awkward and bad-tempered at times. There are also things you don’t know about me, Talia, and I don’t know how to tell you. Until I figure it out, can we let this be what it is? Does it need a name? A label?”