Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 113464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
She follows me when I roll onto my back, resting her hand on my chest and propping her chin against it. I use my fingers to comb through her mussed hair.
“Remember in the beginning when we talked about getting burned?”
“And all your scars,” she whispers, tracing the ridges of my pecs with her nails. It hasn’t been more than a few minutes since I came, but I’m already hungry for her again. It’s overwhelming, this craving. Enough to drive me out of my mind.
“That’s right.” I take her hand and kiss the tips of her fingers. Otherwise, I won’t be able to resist her touch much longer. And this is too important to brush aside. For the first time in my life, I want to share what’s in me. It’s dangerous. No one knows that better than I do, but somehow it feels necessary.
“Someone hurt you badly, didn’t they?” There’s sadness in her voice, and I know she isn’t pretending. It hurts her to think of me in pain.
“All my life, I thought once I became the man I wanted to be, everything else would fall into place. By the time I was your age, I had already made a lot of money. Nothing close to what I have now, but enough that I never had to worry about going back to that old house again. I never had to live that life. I thought I had it made.”
I can’t help but groan at the memory of that cocky, headstrong kid who reminds me of Tatum when I think about it. “And, of course, with the money came the girls.”
She nods, eyes twinkling. “Looking like you do; you couldn’t have had any trouble.”
“My trouble was, I was too young and too naive. I let my dick do the thinking for me, and by the time I figured I was being taken for a ride, it was too late. I was already married, and Tatum was already here. I didn’t have anybody in my life to teach me how to be careful around people who smile at your face while they have their hand in your wallet.”
I’m trying, really I am, but there’s still bitterness in my voice. Resentment bubbles in my chest. I resent that younger version of me most of all. He made it so easy for her.
“I’m sorry she did that to you.” She cups my cheek, softly. The opposite of Amanda in every way. There was never any softness there. She was always hard and calculating. Out for herself. That hasn’t changed.
“She admitted once things went bad that she only went through with having Tatum to lock me down.”
She winces. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s taken me a lot—and I mean a lot—to consider bringing someone into my life.”
“Then I’m honored that you think I’m worthy.” Coming from anyone else in the world, the line would come off corny. Forced. Calculating. I’d have no choice but to roll my eyes and tell her to get out of my bed and my life.
But this is Bianca, who I doubt has a calculating bone in her body. She’s too innocent to be anything but sincere.
“You are more than worthy,” I murmur. “I’m the one who should ask myself whether I’m worthy of you.”
I lace our fingers together on top of my chest. It looks right; her small hand joined with my much larger one. I’m her protector, and she is my sweetness, softness, the reason I do what I do. She’s become my reason to live, the thing that balances my life.
She snuggles against me, warm and happy and mine. All I can do is hold this precious thing in my arms and vow to myself that I’ll do everything in my power to keep her. Now I’ve seen what life is like with her, and I’ve gotten a hint of what it can be without her. I know what I prefer.
When my phone buzzes, I close my eyes and only hold her tighter. “The rest of the world can go away for a little while.”
“We’ve been here all day,” she reminds me with gentle laughter in her voice.
“And the world hasn’t burned down yet. It can wait.” When the buzzing ceases, I smile to myself—until it starts again.
“Motherfucker. I swear to God, this had better be good.” I let go of her as much as I don’t want to and roll to the side, yanking my phone from the nightstand, unsurprised to find Romero’s name staring up at me. “What?” I snap.
“She’s here.” He’s tense, his breathing harsh. “Someone must have let her in. She’s looking for you.”
“Who?”
He doesn’t need to answer the question. Not when the door flies open, and a whirlwind comes blowing through. A whirlwind wearing couture I paid for before cutting her off. Someone I swore I’d never set eyes on again except in court.