Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Tate nods at Sloane and then starts back toward the house. Dempsey trots back over to Sloane and whispers something that makes her tense. He can fill me in later on their conversation. Right now, I have to fix me and Tate.
I will fix us.
“Tate,” I call after him as he storms into the house. “Wait.”
Ignoring me, he stomps up the stairs. I charge after him and then pass him by. He growls something unintelligible to me, but I’m focused on my new mission.
Make. Him. Stay.
I snatch up his suitcase and then the cat carrier once I’ve made my way into his room. When I whirl around, he’s entering the space, face twisting up in anger.
“You’re not leaving,” I grunt, shouldering past him.
“What the hell, Jude?!”
Funky darts past us, hightailing it back to my bedroom. I follow after him and set his carrier by the window. Then I toss the suitcase on my bed and start unzipping it.
“You can’t do this,” Tate bellows. “I’m leaving!”
“Not if I can fucking help it.”
I start shoving clothes into drawers, pushing my clothes aside to make room for his. He doesn’t come near me but continues to argue. It reminds me of a little dog yapping at an intruder. Except he’s no dog and I’m no intruder. I’m protecting what’s mine. End of fucking story.
I locate his keys in the suitcase and bury them in my closet between my vast array of black hoodies. When I exit the closet, he’s standing by the bed, arms crossed over his chest, scowling at me.
Pissed is better than afraid.
I am not like his ex.
“Not pressing charges, eh?” I grunt as I scoop up the empty suitcase. “Sounds like you’re letting him get away with hurting you. Again.”
Fire blazes in his eyes as he watches me throw his suitcase into my closet. “I don’t let him do anything. He takes and takes and takes. Like someone else I know.”
Something in me snaps and I decide I’m done with his bullshit. I prowl over to him until I’m crowding his space. Gently, I run my fingers through his hair on the back of his head and then tug until he peers up at me. His nostrils flare and his luscious lips are parted as though he might like my proximity, but the fury in his gaze never recedes.
“I am not like him and you know it.” I lean my masked forehead against his, hating for the millionth time I have to hide the ugly from him. “I’m sorry I turned your phone on and spied on you. It was fucked up. I hate that I did it.”
His anger cools from an exploding volcano to a simmering pot. I take that as a win and quickly continue forward.
“How can I fix this, Tate? I can’t…I can’t lose you.”
He scrunches his eyebrows together, eyes growing sad. “I’m struggling here.”
“Because of me?”
“Not just you.” He sighs heavily. “I know you’re not like him. I’m sorry I said that.”
My heart rate speeds up. I allow my hands to curl around his neck so I can stroke his flesh softly with my thumbs. Does he like it? Is this comforting him?
His eyes flutter closed and he gives me a sad smile. “I’m just scared, okay? No matter what I do, my life just keeps getting ruined because of him.”
“Let me help you,” I plead. “I can make him pay for this.”
He pulls back, shaking his head. “It’ll just make it worse. You don’t understand. He’s been terrorizing me for two years, Jude. Two long years. I’ve endured more pain and suffering from him than the rest of my life combined. And he’s crazy. He doesn’t give up or go away.”
“Tell me his name,” I demand. “I can do something. Anything. Please let me.”
“You can’t, though. He’s ruthless. He can hurt people. You really want to put Gemma in danger? It’s what he does.”
If he thinks I’m going to stay away now, he’s fucking insane. But I’ll have to do some digging on my own time. Not now. Now we’re on a delicate thread and I need to keep him close.
“I want you in my bed every night,” I rasp out, dragging my thumbs along his stubbly jaw. “Every night. Fucky too.”
He smirks. “Funky. You’re a real dick, Jude.”
“You like my dick,” I remind him, grinning behind my mask. “Gobbled it up like it was one of Violet’s apple pies.”
“Funny,” he deadpans. “And how do you explain how much you like my dick? You sure enjoyed playing with it this morning.”
Fucking hell.
I loved it more than he’ll ever know.
So tell him, asshole.
“I loved how hard you were. The mess you made. The sexy moans that came out of you.” I ghost my palms down his front, drifting lower until I can grope said dick. “I’ve never experienced anything so hot in my goddamn life, sweet boy.”