Total pages in book: 217
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
He kisses me harder.
“You’ll be all creased,” I say around his mouth, my naked body squishing into his suit. Creased to kill.
He hums, moans, pulls me in closer, and my body comes alive, need taking over. I sit myself astride his stomach, never breaking our kiss, and lace my fingers through his hair. I hear his phone ringing from his pocket. And then I feel it. “Oh,” I yelp, lifting my ass from his body to escape the hard vibration. He laughs into my mouth, forcing me to withdraw, just so I can get a glimpse of my chuckling god. It’s good to see him. I smile, feeling into his inside pocket for his cell and pulling it out.
“Throw it away,” he orders, and just as I’m about to do just that, he stills. “Wait.” His cell is suddenly gone from my hand, as is my chuckling god. It was a brief appearance. He stares at the screen.
“Who is it?” I ask, as he kisses my forehead and helps me to my back, laying me down.
“I don’t know.” Another kiss on my cheek before he answers with silence.
I hate the instant tension his body radiates.
17
JAMES
After Danny took Rose upstairs, I followed Beau into the kitchen. She poured herself water, downed it, then left, not looking at me once. So I followed her to the gym. She will talk to me. She’s already been in here for over an hour this morning. Clearly, she’s not sweated enough. She places her phone on the bench and starts pulling on some boxing gloves, ignoring me standing by the door. The punching bag is about to get hammered.
I wander over to the corner and pick up the pads, slipping my arms through the bands and going to Beau, standing before her, forcing her to look at me. I widen my stance. Raise the pads. “Come on then, Beau,” I say quietly. It’s me she wants to hurt. Well, here I am. “Let’s get this out of your system.”
Her lithe body engages, and I bend slightly, bracing myself, seeing the intentions in her eyes. Her first roundhouse kick connects beautifully, knocking me back a few paces. I step back into position. “Again,” I order, cricking my neck, loosening my muscles.
She comes at me, launching a round of punches, one after the other, right hooks, jabs, and uppercuts. The pads absorb them all, every blow, and I start to move around the mat, encouraging her movements too. “Again,” I demand, thrusting the pads forward, and she yells, delivering another combination of kicks that have me staggering back until my back hits the wall. She backs off, wiping her sweaty brow with the back of her gloved hand, letting me reset. “Again,” I whisper, dipping, my eyes on hers, goading, part of me wondering what the fuck I’m doing, encouraging this kind of training when I know she’s on the verge of walking out on me and taking up her past as a cop. But the other part is relishing this. Knowing she’s getting what she needs, knowing she’ll be revisiting our past, seeing us in the kitchen of my apartment when she first took me off my feet, both physically and mentally. The first time we had sex. The moment we both succumbed.
On that thought, I throw the pads aside and give her me in my entirety, unprotected. Unarmed. Exposed. Always exposed with Beau. She looks at me, her face painfully expressionless. This is the woman she was. The one she tried to forget existed but now wants back. The woman with power and unbridled strength. I’ve always needed Beau to be this version of herself. Away from the darkness. But always with me. If she goes back, if she steps into her cop boots again, she won’t be with me. Can’t be with me. “I see the woman you were,” I murmur, and she swallows, knowing what’s coming. “The woman you’re trying to forget existed.” Mine. She’s trying to forget she’s mine. It’s the only way forward for her. If she’s going back, she needs to forget she was ever in my world. I won’t let her. Never. She’s feeling helpless, guilty, like she needs to be free of the ropes tying her down. I can make that happen without her picking her badge back up, because, frankly, if she does go back, I’m worried about what she might discover. “I want you to find that woman. The woman you were. I need you to find her, Beau.” I step forward. “And give her back to me,” I whisper, seeing the tears in her eyes building. And then she yells, coming at me. I block each punch, deflect every kick, my body unmoving, absorbing her attack, hit after hit, kick after kick, until she’s out of steam and falls into my chest on a whimper of defeat, her gloved hands bunched in front of her face as she weeps into them.