Series: The Moretti Crime Family Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 111428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
“You don’t know why you did it?” I mock and turn around to face her.
I’m seething. It’s like she’s ripped the fucking rug out from under my feet. I thought I had everything figured out, fucking planned, and then she presses her warm lips against mine, dooming me to an eternity of thoughts I shouldn’t be having.
Shaking her head, she causes strands of blonde hair to fall across her sweaty forehead.
“I’m sorry. It didn’t mean anything.”
A growl lodges itself in my throat. “Of course, it didn’t mean anything.”
I want to say more, to tell her never to do something so stupid or careless again. I want to say something cruel to push her back down, to keep her in place, but I can’t make the words come. It didn’t mean anything.
No, it didn’t, because if it did… I didn’t even want to think about the results of such an action. The easiest thing to do was to drop it and move on. I’d make sure it never happened again.
“Forget it. It’s time for a shower. I’ve got a job to do today. Move it,” I order through my teeth, waiting impatiently for her to start moving.
Her throat bobs, and her brows pucker together. She’s confused and maybe even a little hurt, but she’s doing a damn good job of hiding it.
She climbs off the bed and walks over to me slowly, her eyes trained on the floor. I’m half tempted to grab her by the arm and drag her into the shower. I don’t want to talk, and I don’t have the patience to deal with her bullshit.
Her timid gaze finds mine. “I’m sorry, Markus.”
Sorry? She is apologizing for kissing me when all I want her to do is drop it. She needs to forget it ever happened, so I can forget about it.
“I don’t want your apology. I want you to forget it ever happened, and I don’t want you to ever try something so stupid again. Now move before I put you in the shower, and don’t even think I won’t because I will.”
With big eyes, she squeezes past me and into the bathroom.
I follow behind her, telling myself that it was nothing, just a kiss, just sex.
None of it means anything, and especially not with her.
15
Fallon
I’m so stupid. Stupid and careless. I still can’t believe I kissed him yesterday.
Why did I do that? It was dumb and irrational, and I should’ve thought it through before doing it, but he looked so vulnerable. Drawn into his orbit, I wanted to taste his lips, see if they tasted of the same amount of sin that he spoke. It was a mistake.
My lips tingle every time I think about our kiss, well, the kiss I gave him. He didn’t react, didn’t even kiss me back. He turned to stone the second my lips touched his, and I knew I made a mistake. I mean, I knew it before, but I really knew it then.
He pulled away, and any closeness I thought we had gained was gone. He retreated back inside himself, a broody, angry scowl overtaking his features.
Then I apologized like a fool, and he all but slapped me in the face with his verbal hemorrhage. Now, I’m standing behind him in the shower while he is under the hot spray. I want to protest but press my lips firmly together.
Ignoring me, he washes his body and hair in record time while I try not to look at him or notice his perfectly sculpted muscles. His body is etched from stone, sharp angles, and ridges—a true Adonis and as cold as one too.
He’s been ignoring me since yesterday, barely muttering a word unless necessary. It angers me more than I care to admit, even to myself. He’s the only person here, so if he doesn’t talk to me, I talk to no one. The loneliness is enough to make me hurdle myself off the side of a cliff some days.
When done, he turns to face me, and I almost don’t meet his gaze, but I’m not a coward. Looking up at him, I see his face is a mask of pure indifference. I can’t read him, can’t tell what he’s thinking. All I know is I really shouldn’t have kissed him.
“Get on your knees. I want to use your mouth,” he demands suddenly, his voice even, deep, and emotionless.
“No.” I lift my chin in defiance. My voice comes out meeker than I would like, but the word itself does the job. I might not be able to leave this place, but I won’t have him command me like that anymore. I won’t give in this time. If he wants this, he’ll have to force me.
“No?” He raises his eyebrow. “You don’t get to say no.”
“That’s where you are wrong. You can force me to do stuff all day long. You can force me to my knees, but you can’t make me want it.”