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)
There’s a tinge of annoyance in his voice. My mental state is fragile enough at the moment. I don’t need to bother anyone else.
“I’m… I’m sorry. I don’t want to put anyone out. I can go stay with my father if you would rather have me do that.”
“Stop,” he growls like a dog protecting a bone. “I asked you to give me more details. I did not ask you to leave.”
The depth of his voice gives me goosebumps, and I force a ragged breath into my lungs. “My boyfriend. Well, now, ex. He cheated on me. And yes, I know he doesn’t deserve the tears, but my stupid heart doesn’t care.” The words are hard to make come out. “After everything we had been through, all the moments we shared, he cheated on me. I doubt I’ll ever know how many times.”
“What a fucking idiot. I hope you understand this doesn’t have anything to do with you,” he says, that sexy voice of his dripping with venom. “Men are not always smart. Sometimes, we make choices we cannot come back from.”
“I know.” My warped thoughts remind me that this is what he has to say. What a concerned father should say. It tells me he sees me as a child. In a last-ditch effort, I grasp onto that knowledge and ignore the heat in his gaze and the way his tongue darts out over his bottom lip.
“Then stop wasting your tears on him.” His voice grows softer, with almost a seductive edge. My breath catches in my throat when his thumb grazes where a tear lingers on my cheek before he brushes it away.
Holy shit. My heart is hammering so hard against my ribcage I think it might break free of my chest. This can’t be happening. I must be misinterpreting things. He’s being nice—fatherly—because he feels bad.
The problem is, there’s nothing fatherly about the way his voice has deepened or the soft growl running through his words. If I didn’t know better, I would think he was angry and revengeful for me, but not in a way that says he wants to protect his daughter.
No, this is different. This is a touch-her-and-die vibe.
“Has anyone ever cheated on you?” I have to laugh at myself before he can answer. “Of course not. Not you.” That was such a stupid question.
A smile plays at the corner of his sensual mouth. “Why not me? Am I really so elusive that you think no one would cheat on me?”
“I don’t think any woman would be dumb enough to cheat on someone as handsome as you.” Shit. The filter between my brain and mouth must be gone. I just told him he’s fucking handsome, and here I am, telling myself to forget what I witnessed, so it doesn’t make things awkward. Then I blurt out something like this.
His sharp laugh doesn’t hold much humor. “Trust me.” There’s that growl in his voice again. “I’ve got plenty of scar tissue left behind from the burns I’ve sustained. The difference is you can’t see them. Nobody is immune to heartbreak. Some of us are just better at covering it up than others.”
Was she blind, or just plain stupid?
At least I keep the question inside my head instead of blurting it out. Another tear cuts down my cheek, and once again, Callum catches it on his thumb.
My skin burns where he touches me. It’s nothing more than a simple caress, but desire tingles in my belly. This time, he doesn’t pull his hand away and cups my cheek with his palm. Soft. Warm. I’m frozen in time, too wrapped up in the pleasure of his touch. If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up. In fact, because this is a dream, I lean into him. I’m weak for this man, and he doesn’t even know it.
“No, little bird.” His breath is shallow, and the intensity of yearning in his gaze pins me to the desk. “The only time tears should leak from your eyes is when you’re choking on my cock like a good little girl.”
Pleasure zings through my core, and warmth engulfs me completely. This has to be a dream because there is no way Callum really just said what he did. It’s painfully obvious he saw me watching him. My brain is already overwhelmed from the breakup and the move, and now I’m imagining things.
Only I’m certain I’m not dreaming. I’m very much awake—the desk is firm beneath my ass, and my skin is tingling. I inhale his spicy scent deep into my lungs once more to remind myself that this is real.
“Excuse me?” Of all the ways I could respond.
The pressure from his fingers, the way he strokes with his thumb while never breaking eye contact. I can feel it deep in my bones. He wants me. I’m not a child in his eyes.