Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
And don’t even get me started on her lips.
Or those stormy green eyes.
When she gets mad, like she is right now, they take on a hint of gray.
“I can’t,” she whispers.
I lean a little closer to her. “Your husband won’t care. I’ll pay you for your time.”
“You only pay for me to read to you. Why change it?”
“Fucking hell, Elizabeth.” I shake my head, kick the bike off its stand, and start it up.
“My book,” she says, barely loud enough for me to hear over the bike’s engine.
“Fuck your book. It’s mine now,” I tell her. Then I drop the bag of food to the ground at her feet and take off. My bike is fishtailing, and my tires are squealing before I ride away.
And I leave her standing there, staring after me.
Chapter 5
Lissie
“Tell me your dark and dirty secrets, and maybe I’ll share mine.”
“Iwant a divorce,” I tell Cody that night as I walk into the house, carrying the bag of groceries. I wasn’t sure I was going to pick the bag up at first, but I had to because I was so fucking hungry. Cody raises his head and eyes me. His cock now back in his pants is my only reward.
“No.” Just the one word before he focuses back on his damn computer screen. I hear the sounds of porn coming from the speakers like before, only this time, he turns the volume up a notch.
Cody has been my husband for a long time, and for half of those years, I may have thought I loved him.
Now, I know I never really did.
Our relationship is nothing but a series of business transactions I don’t get a cent from, and I struggle to buy my own fucking food.
“Your sister called, and she’s on her way over. Clean up the kitchen,” he barks. I cringe as he looks up at me from his seat at the table.
Cody doesn’t even glance at the bag in my hand or ask me why I have it or how I afforded it—he simply does not care.
Walking to the kitchen, I pull out the contents of the bag Milo left me and place the bread on the counter. Then I pull out the peanut butter, which he obviously bought as well. Smiling, I go to throw the bag out when I spot one piece of candy sitting at the bottom of the bag. It’s the same brand of candy I’ve eaten numerous times at his clubhouse when I go over there to read to him.
Grinning at the single piece of white chocolate, I place it in my pants pocket and move to the toaster to toast myself some bread. My stomach is growling, and the need for food is overwhelming. I look up as Cody stands, shuts down his computer, and turns to face me. The look on his face is one of pure disdain, his eyes cold and unforgiving as he glares at me.
“I’ve ordered pizza,” he says, watching me. “We aren’t getting divorced,” he adds.
“Why not?” I question. “We don’t even love each other,” I remind him.
“Who cares about love? You owe me, Lissie. You are not leaving.”
“I don’t owe you shit. She does,” I snap.
He reaches for the closest thing to him and throws it across the room. The plate smashes against the wall, and I flinch, casting my gaze away from him.
“Would you like me to tell your sister where we got the money?”
“No.” I glare at him, my eyes burning with anger and defiance.
He smirks, reveling in his power while my fists clench at my sides, every muscle taut in response to his smugness. “That’s what I fucking thought. Now, act like a well-behaved woman and not a damn child,” he says.
I stand there, livid, as he walks off to his room down the hall. We live in a modest two-bedroom house—it’s nothing fancy, but enough for both of us. He says we don’t have lots of money, but he refuses to let me get a job so I can be available for Milo when he needs me.
I’ve been reading to Milo for a year. It started with just your average fiction books, which lasted for a good six months, and then we dipped our toes into fantasy. But recently, we’ve moved on to books that are heavier on romance.
I hate it as much as I love it.
When I leave Milo, I’m usually clenching my thighs together. The way he sits there quietly and listens to me, his demeanor mostly soft and attentive, makes me feel like I am being truly heard. Most of the time, his eyes are closed, but lately, they’ve been open and watching me.
It’s intimidating.
He is intimidating.
I know Milo from school. He’s older than me, and we never had any classes together, but he was never someone to be missed. The man was popular back then, and now? Well, he basically owns this town. I don’t think anyone would be stupid enough to go against him.