Total pages in book: 175
Estimated words: 164346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
He nods, accepting the fate of his only daughter. She will be my wife. I’ll fuck over anyone in my way. “How far out will this wedding be?”
“As soon as possible,” I answer honestly.
“But you’re both in college …”
“Why is that a problem?” I ask, tilting my head to the side. Lots of people get married before and during college. She doesn’t need to attend Barrington after I graduate this year. She doesn’t need the degree, and she sure as shit won’t be working. I will be the sole provider for our family. Blakely will depend on me for everything, and I will give the woman whatever the fuck she wants.
“It just seems quick.” He shrugs.
“Well, I’m sure if your wife had it her way, Blakely would already be married off to Matt,” I growl.
He sighs heavily as if he believes that as well. Mr. Anderson starts to read over the contracts once again as my father speaks up. “If this is what you want …”
“It is,” I say firmly.
Her father stands and adjusts his suit jacket. “Do you love her?” he asks.
I’ve thought about this a million times since I found myself in a jail cell left with just my thoughts. And every time, I came up with the same answer.
No!
They say love is patient and kind. I’m not either one of those things when it comes to Blakely. I’m controlling, possessive, and madly jealous. Which can only mean one thing—I’m obsessed with her! To the point I want to hide her from the world. I don’t want another man looking at her, let alone talking to her. Matt helped me understand that.
So, instead of lying to my future father-in-law, I ask, “Did you love Valerie when you married her?”
He places his hands on his hips and lets out a sigh. I know he had an arranged marriage. Blakely doesn’t know that, but I do. “I learned to love her over time,” he finally answers.
Stepping up to his desk, I place my palms flat on it and lean over. “I promise you, Mr. Anderson, Blakely will be in good hands. I don’t need to love her to promise that I’ll protect her. And that’s more than Matt would do.”
He nods to himself a few times. “You’re right. But …” He pauses. “I don’t want the money. I’ll sign everything. She’ll be yours. But I won’t take a cent from you for her. If she chooses to marry you, then she’s yours.”
I smile. Oh, she’ll choose me all right. “Mighty noble of you.”
“I won’t be like Valerie.” He shakes his head. Reaching out his right hand to me, he adds, “Welcome to the family, son.”
BLAKELY
I’M STANDING IN my bathroom, lining my lips, when I see the door open and Ryat enter. I say nothing to him and look back at myself in the mirror. I’m running late as it is. I slept through my alarms. My body was so exhausted that I actually managed to sleep through my anger for him.
I was going to skip my shower but realized I needed to wash my hair, so that put me an extra twenty minutes behind schedule.
He comes up behind me, his eyes dropping to the towel wrapped around my body. Reaching out, he yanks it off me.
“I don’t have time,” I inform him, pulling away. “I’m late.”
“So?” He arches a brow, smacking my ass and making me jump.
“So, I can’t miss classes!” My mom is already pissed that I’m not screwing Matt. She’ll have a cow if she found out I’m skipping classes because of Ryat.
“Fuck Barrington.” He grips my hips and pulls them from the counter.
“Ryat …” He reaches up and grabs a handful of my hair, making me hiss in a breath.
His eyes meet mine in the mirror, and his voice drops to a deep growl. “Bend over and spread your fucking legs, Blake.”
My heart starts to race, my body temperature rising. I want to tell him to go to hell. Or back to whoever he spent the night with. But the way his emerald eyes are glowing, I don’t. Maybe I’m overthinking things. Maybe he wasn’t with someone else last night. If he was, why would he still want me? It’s not like he only jumps on me when Matt is around. We actually never see him.
“Blake,” he warns, pulling me out of my own thoughts.
He lets up on my hair, and I bend over the counter, spreading my legs wide just like he ordered me to do. The cold surface of the counter makes me shiver as he runs his hand between my legs.
When he thrusts a finger in me, I rise to my tiptoes, whimpering. Then he pulls it out, and I hear him undoing his belt, followed by his zipper. His way of inspection, letting him know I’m wet enough. Then the head of his dick is pushing its way into me.