Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 155903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
It had been.
It really had been.
How often had she longed for Matt to call her baby? But he used to say that it felt derogatory to call her that. He’d always called her Faith.
She didn’t understand how it could be derogatory when it was what she wanted.
To be honest, it had made her feel weird and icky inside when he said that.
As though she was wrong to want him to call her that.
Reuben leaned her back so she lay against his arm, which was resting on the side of the sofa. His finger was still in her mouth, and she sucked on it, trying not to moan.
This shouldn’t feel so good.
But it did.
“That’s it. Just relax. Close your eyes. Good girl.”
She curled into his bare chest.
Wow, he was really warm. A sigh of pleasure escaped her. To her shock, she started to drift off to sleep.
“Such a good girl for me. This is what Daddy likes. A Little girl who obeys him.”
15
Faith woke up slowly.
There was something weird about where she was lying. It wasn’t the uncomfortable sofa bed in Cammie’s basement. She could actually stretch out. Although she still felt tired.
Seemed like she always felt tired lately.
She barely slept. The basement was cold, and damp, and she just never felt safe. She sat up with a gasp.
Definitely not the basement.
This was . . . this was Reuben’s office.
Holy heck balls.
“Ahh, you’re awake.” Reuben stepped out of the bathroom in a clean shirt.
What time was it? Had she slept all night?
Oh God.
She’d fallen asleep on top of him. How embarrassing.
“What time is it?” she asked, scrambling to stand up.
The world around her swayed.
Fudge knuckles.
“Are you all right? What’s wrong?” he snapped, grasping her around the waist.
Whoa. He could move fast when he wanted to.
“I’m okay . . . just my blood pressure. I have to be careful not to stand up too fast.”
“Then don’t stand up so fast again,” he grumbled at her. “It won’t help that you didn’t have dinner.”
No, that was true.
“You need to make sure that you’re eating and drinking properly. Or I’ll happily ensure that happens.”
Yikes.
“What time is it?” she repeated.
“It’s one in the morning. The power came back on about twenty minutes ago.”
Good. That was good, right?
“We can go home?”
He eyed her. “Yes.”
Why was he barely talking? Was he mad at her? Did she drool on him?
Oh God. That was it. He’d had to change shirts because she’d drooled on his last one.
Wait. No.
He hadn’t had a shirt on earlier when she’d fallen asleep in his lap.
Yikes.
“I’m sorry I fell asleep,” she said, looking around frantically for her handbag. “I, um . . . storms always freak me out, and I get tired, and yeah . . . ”
Wow.
“Why?” he asked.
“Why do I get tired? Adrenaline drop, I’m guessing.”
Shoot. Where was her handbag? Oh. wait, she’d left it in her office.
She’d get it on the way out. She just needed her phone.
Oh! There it was. She snatched it up.
“I guess I’ll be heading home now.” How was she going to get home at this time of night? The buses didn’t run this late.
She’d have to get a ride-share, which would cost her more than she wanted to spend. But she had no other choice.
“No. Why are you scared of storms?”
Oh. Right.
“I don’t know.”
He shot her a quelling look as though warning her not to bullshit him.
“It’s honestly the truth. I have no idea why I’m scared of storms. Or claustrophobic. Although that’s kind of common, right? To not like tight spaces? But the storms . . . yeah, no clue.”
He frowned but nodded and didn’t ask her anything more.
“Okay, well, thanks for, um, helping me while I freaked out. Bye.” She started toward the door. She’d nearly made it when an arm slipped around her waist.
“Where do you think you’re going, Little Blossom?” he asked, pressing her back against his chest.
Holy moly.
Her body tingled, her skin heating.
Did he know what he did to her every time he touched her?
She was starting to think that he did.
Evil fudging genius.
“I’m leaving,” she said, her pulse racing. “I’m going home.”
To see if she could get some sleep.
Yeah, like that’s going to happen.
“I didn’t give you permission to leave.”
Was he for real right now?
“I don’t need your permission to go home.”
“I don’t like this arguing back, Faith,” he told her in a low voice.
What the heck?
“I just want to go home. I’m tired. I . . . I need to go home. Please.”
Well, it didn’t take long for her to lose the backbone she’d found.
“Hmm. I don’t want you getting tired.” He released her and she swayed slightly.
Right. Well, she hadn’t expected him to just let her go. But she’d take it. She took a small step toward the door, not entirely convinced that the predator would really let her go.