Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 129980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
She came close to screaming his name when her body clamped down on his cock on the third orgasm, sending them both rocketing into sweet oblivion.
SEVENTEEN
“Be right back, babe,” Andrii said. “I’ll start the bathwater.”
Azelie couldn’t keep the smile from her face. Not only had she done a rather spectacular job giving him a blow job for the first time, but their sex was off the charts. Now he was doing what he always did, taking care of her. She lay on the bed, hands behind her head, not bothering to try to cover up. She was as limp as a dishrag and so happy she couldn’t think straight.
“I have Andrii fog,” she announced.
He grinned at her, leaned over, and brushed a kiss on the top of her head. “You’re going to contribute to my smug arrogance if you keep that up.”
“I can’t help it if it’s true.” She smiled up at him. “You’re better than brain fog.”
“It could just be sex fog,” he teased.
She loved making him smile. He seemed relaxed and very happy. “It could be, but if it is, it’s still Andrii fog, because you’re the one providing awesome sex.”
“I suppose that makes sense to you. I think it’s the other way around. You provided for me.” He turned to walk away from her.
Azelie stared at his broad back in a kind of shock. She sat up slowly. She knew he had tattoos. He had them all over his chest and arms, but he usually was dressed, and the other times they’d had sex, she only saw him from the front. He pulled on a shirt after. He woke before her when he slept in her bed. She’d never seen his back tattoos. The main ink on his back was a large piece done predominantly in blacks and grays. The central part of the tattoo was a tree with many branches. Crows sat in the branches or flew above them. Mixed in the roots of the tree were numerous skulls piled high. Some were scattered on the ground near the roots, as if they’d tried to escape. A rocker above the canopy of the tree said “Torpedo Ink.” The one below said “Sea Haven–Caspar.”
“You’re in a motorcycle club.”
He stuck his head around the door frame. “Yeah?” A distinct challenge. His expression had gone hard. “You have a problem with that?”
“Well, yes.” She wrapped her arms around her middle. “That means you ride motorcycles. You’re probably really good on a motorcycle. Like an expert rider or something.”
He looked puzzled. “Not following you, babe. You’re going to have to spell out your objection.”
“Sheesh, Andrii. Do I have to spell it out for you? Is there anything you can’t do? Anything you’re not good at? I’m saying you’re most likely a badass on a motorcycle. You are, aren’t you? Just own it. Just admit it.”
She knew she sounded a little hysterical, but every time she thought she might be able to give him something of equal value, bring something to the relationship, she found out more about him. Everything she found out was over the top. He was like a hero in a fantasy book, larger than life and impossible to match.
Andrii studied her face, the harshness in him fading. “Baby, you’re not making any sense. I’ve ridden motorcycles for years. You’ll never have to worry when you’re on the back of my bike. I’ll keep you safe. Are you afraid of motorcycles?”
Naturally, he would think she feared being on a motorcycle. More than likely, prior to thinking she was afraid, he had thought she was upset that he was in a club. He didn’t understand the disparity between them. It would always be there, this huge gap she would never be able to close. She despised that she had no experience, that she’d been a coward and hid from life because of what had happened.
She pressed her hand over the scar closest to her heart. She’d been afraid to take a chance with Maestro, pretending to herself she was afraid of his past, but the truth was she thought she would never be able to keep him. He would realize after a short while that she was no match for him.
Azelie turned away from him. She couldn’t even look at him when he was so ridiculously gorgeous. He didn’t seem to care in the least about his nudity, comfortable in his own skin, where she often wanted to hide. She knew she’d worn baggy clothes from a young age because Quentin had drilled it into her that she wasn’t to show her figure. She wanted to blame her lack of confidence on that but was afraid she simply lacked self-esteem in every department.
She heard Andrii swear under his breath, his voice soft but close, too close. He moved like the air, silent and deadly. He was on her before she could defend herself, catching her up in his arms and cradling her against his chest.