Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“She got attached to me,” he shrugged ever so slightly. “Before her, I’d never let another woman close enough to love me. I was purposefully cruel and cold because I thought that there was no way someone could love me. I liked it. Liked that she loved me yet I didn’t have any connection to her. When I broke it off, she wanted to stay in my life ... to serve me. Of course, I pay her.”
“Of course,” I sneered, not being able to help it.
Jay’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t comment on my snark. “It’s wretched of me. After all these years, enjoying how she continues to want me, continues to accept working as my fucking housekeeper as ... something. But she’s fucked up. Has her own shit that haunts her. This keeps the wolves from snapping at her toes. I was okay with that. There was no reason not to be, until you.”
I folded my arms. “Until me,” I mimicked. “But then you kept her doing ... whatever fucked up stuff she’s been doing since we became us.”
“I did,” Jay agreed. “I was so fucking wrapped up in you, I forgot about her.”
“She was cleaning your underwear and shopping for my almond milk. You’re a criminal mastermind and read people like that guy off The Mentalist. There’s no way you conveniently forgot about her,” I jeered.
“The Mentalist?”
I levelled him with a steady gaze. “It’s a great fucking show, and now is not the time to talk about the fact that you really need to start taking notice of popular culture, but you do,” I sassed.
Jay nodded, his expression grim. “It’s impossible to believe, and it sounds like a lie, but I’m telling the truth, Stella. She matters so little to me that she just disappeared. You’re fucking everything. I can’t go through a moment in the day without thinking about the way you smell, what your cunt feels like pulsing around my cock, the way your eyes twinkle when you’re happy, how you seem to find a way to talk about a fucking television show when you’re in the middle of a conversation I know is ripping you apart.” Jay’s eyes were so intense, my skin seemed to be melting from my bones.
“It’s not healthy, my love for you, Stella. Because I’m not. I told you, I’m a wicked man. People are disposable to me. If they cease to be useful to me, they cease to exist. Except you. You’re so fucking real to me that it hurts. That it terrifies me.”
His fists were clenched at his sides. He wanted to touch me, the energy radiating between us was so thick that I could barely breathe.
“That’s it,” he stated. “That’s the truth. That’s all I have to offer. I fucking hate that I hurt you, but I told you I was going to do that. That I would protect you from the world, but I’d never be able to protect you from me.”
He was done.
I could breathe.
Breath hurtled through my lungs, my beating, ruined heart sending blood rushing to my fingertips once more
Jay had told me he’d hurt me. There were no lies there. I’d known it, too, would’ve known it even if he hadn’t said it. There was no way to hold on to a love like this without pain. Without agony.
Jay was much too complicated, damaged and cruel to love me gently or kindly. But he loved me with the ferocity of a thousand men. A million. He’d kill anyone who hurt me. And not in that figurative way that men spouted to sound alpha these days. He’d literally fucking kill anyone who caused me even the slightest discomfort. He’d get away with it and wouldn’t lose a moment of sleep.
“Okay,” I whispered, barely audible.
Jay’s body twitched upon hearing my voice, his eyes opening a little wider, lips relaxing slightly from his grimace.
“Okay?” he repeated.
I nodded. “Yes. Okay. I don’t forgive you, not entirely. But I understand. And as long as that woman never sets foot in our house again, I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”
“Done,” Jay said.
“And we’re going to Whole Foods,” I added.
“Also done,” he deadpanned.
I swallowed thickly. The air was still electrified between us, with all the confessions we’d spilled into the air of my childhood paradise. The sun was hidden behind clouds, the air balmy, yet my bones felt cold, and my skin was on fire.
All the words had been said. We had none left.
“Take off your dress,” he ordered, his pupils dilating.
My skin prickled. Okay, there were a few words left. “Right here?”
“You want me to tell you again?” Threat threaded through his tone, and my thighs clenched together.
I shook my head, slowly pulling my dress up over my head. Jay stared at me while I did so, staring at me in a way that made me feel vulnerable and powerful at the same time.