Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
“I never got to thank you for the flowers,” I said quietly, after a moment.
“I wasn’t sure if they were still your favorite.”
I nodded against the pillow and smiled at him, but then I remembered the message I was supposed to relay to him. “Did you get my message?”
“About my brother?”
“Yeah.”
“I did. He spoke to my father as well.”
“And you think he’s really safe?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s good.”
“Do you miss him?” he asked. Even though his expression hadn’t changed from blank and nonchalant, he seemed like he was waiting for my answer on bated breath.
“Your brother?”
He nodded.
“Why would you ask me that?” I whispered.
He sighed heavily, as if that was the confirmation he needed, and I hated that he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion once again. Before I could say anything, he said, “You don’t have to worry about your dad. He’ll be safe and taken care of.”
My heart dropped. “Dom.”
“Just trust me.”
“Did you kill Anthony?”
“Would it bother you if I had?”
I moved to my back. I wasn’t going to sit here and pretend that I didn’t have horrible thoughts about Anthony’s demise, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about being the reason he met it. I turned over again and licked my lips. “I wouldn’t miss him.”
He didn’t smile, but the coldness in his eyes seemed to thaw a little.
“I’m not scared of you, you know?” I whispered.
“You looked terrified the other night.”
“Is that why you’ve stayed away?”
He shut his eyes for a solid moment. When he opened them, his gaze seared into me. “I can’t stay away from you, Roselyn.”
I shifted in the bed, scooting closer to him until we were sharing a pillow. I lifted my hand to the side of his face and ran my fingertips over the prickly hair on his cheeks. He made a rumbled sound in his throat as he closed his eyes.
“I don’t want you to stay away from me,” I said after a few seconds of just touching his face.
There was a fire in his eyes that made my heart skip when he opened them again. “You never answered my question.”
“About Gabe?”
“Yes.” He brought a hand to my left hip and started drawing light circles with his thumb.
“Do I miss him? Not really, no.” I bit back a smile, but he didn’t. His lips spread into that slow, wolfish grin of his. Before he could say anything or ask anything else, I added, “You know I was never with your brother, right?”
His hand stilled on my hip. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve never had sex with your brother.”
“Roselyn.” His grip tightened. “If this is a joke, I’m going to slap your ass ten times.”
“I’m pretty sure you slapped it more than ten times, last time.” I laughed but stopped when the expression on his face morphed into one that made me lose my train of thought. When he pulled me flush against him, chest to chest, I lost the ability to speak.
“Tell me again.”
“I never slept with your brother.”
“Not now or not ever?”
“Not ever.” I pulled back and searched his eyes, wondering what he was thinking. His jaw was set, but he was giving away nothing. “I’m not saying we wouldn’t have, but we were only together for like five months. We never even made it to third base.”
“I skipped all the bases. Remind me what happens in third.”
“Touching under clothes, sex, oral, you know, the big stuff.” I hissed when I felt his calloused fingers move underneath my loose t-shirt. He said nothing as he ran his fingers lightly against my back, my side, and finally, squeezed my breast lightly. My back arched when he started rolling my nipple between his fingers.
“Not this?”
I shook my head, unable to speak through my gasp.
His hand traveled down my stomach slowly, dipped into my shorts, under my underwear. He slid his long fingers through my folds. “Not this?”
“God. No.” I gasped loudly when he sank a finger inside me and hooked it.
“Not this?” He used his thumb on my clit, his other finger working inside me.
“No. Fuck.” I squeezed my eyes shut and arched my back as fireworks went off inside me.
He slowed his fingers but kept touching me as he leaned in and kissed the hollow of my throat, my neck, my jaw. He took his hands out of my underwear slowly, dragging the evidence of my arousal up my abdomen. I opened my eyes to find him watching me, his face just inches from mine. The way he looked at me was enough to send my pulse racing, and then he inched closer, his thumb caressing my jaw. When he pressed his lips to mine, it felt like the entire world stopped spinning. I gripped his arm and pulled him closer, and that was when he began to kiss me. The kiss was the opposite of everything he appeared to be. It was soft and inviting, his tongue sneaking its way into my mouth hesitantly, as if asking for permission, dancing against mine in an all-consuming way. The kiss felt like an erotic poem, beautifully written, with the power to set your insides aflame. I never wanted it to end. I never wanted him to stop touching me. I never wanted to stop feeling his tongue against mine or stop hearing the way he groaned into my mouth as if I was the best thing he’d ever had.