Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
“Oh, fuck!” She jolts backwards in surprise and trips on the edge of her rug. I rush forward, but too late: she topples backwards into the shower.
“Shit, Valentina.” I run into the bathroom and reach out to help. She’s groaning and rubbing the back of her head, sprawled in the tub, and I’m completely focused on making sure she’s all right.
“No blood,” I say, touching the back of her head. “Can you stand?”
She nods and groans. “I’m fine. I’m fine. But what the fuck, Ronan?”
I take her arm and start to help her up.
That’s when I notice the towel fell off.
Oh, fuck. Holy shit.
She’s naked. And not just naked: she’s wet. Her tan skin glistens in the bathroom light. Her pink nipples are stiff, and there’s a splash of dark brown hair between her legs. My cock is instantly hard, and my pulse hammers in my chest. Her hips are gorgeous, and her stomach is smooth and sexy, and my fucking god, I want to kiss her belly button and suck her hip bones and lick those nipples until she moans—
“Ronan,” she says through her teeth. “Get. The. Fuck. OUT!”
I stagger backwards. I’m still staring, and my dick is hard. There’s no being subtle here. She squirms, grabbing her towel and covering herself the best she can, but my god, my god, it’s too late. The image of her naked and damp, all dewy and fucking beautiful, will be forever seared into my brain.
I get out of the bathroom and give her some privacy. She wriggles from the tub, cursing the whole time, and storms into her room while I stand in the living room reciting the Pledge of Allegiance in my head to try to get my dick to go down.
But the only thing I want to pledge my allegiance to are her perfect fucking tits and those suckable goddamn nipples.
She appears a few minutes later. Her cheeks are still flushed and pink, but she’s dressed in a t-shirt and cotton shorts now. They aren’t enough to keep my brain from filling in the blanks.
“Stop staring at my chest,” she says through her teeth. “I swear to fucking god, Ronan, you better have a good reason for being here.” She storms into the kitchen and roots around in a drawer before taking out Advil.
“Are you sure you’re okay? I can get my doctor here.” I take out my cell but she waves me off.
“I’m fine. Just a headache. You know, from when I fell into the freaking shower and hit my head because you scared the shit out of me?” She takes two pills then hurls the bottle at me.
I barely dodge. It bounces off the wall next to my face. “That was completely unintentional. I knocked.”
“I was in the shower!” She stops herself and takes deep breaths. “Okay, you’re here, you saw me naked, there’s no changing that.”
“Should I strip now? Do you want to see me naked in exchange?”
Her mouth falls open. “How will that help?”
“I don’t know. I saw your tits—beautiful, by the way—so you can see my dick.”
“We’re not teenagers, Ronan.”
“All right. Fair enough.” I clear my throat. God fucking damn, it’s hard not to look at her body right now.
“Start telling me why you’re here before I grab a knife and get all stabby.” She busies herself in the kitchen making tea and doesn’t look in my direction.
“I was with Julien Moreau earlier.”
She pauses. “What did he want?”
“He was going over the past. Seemed very eager to chat about the night Adam died.”
Valentina’s expression darkens as she turns on the burner. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“I know, love, but Julien asked about you. He said he wants to talk.”
She glances over. “Why?”
“That’s what I wondered, but he was vague. I just—” Suddenly, I feel strange. Why did I rush over? Julien didn’t know where to find her, so why was I so worried? “I came to warn you. That’s all.”
“You could have called or texted. That would’ve been preferable to breaking into my apartment.”
“Right, you’re right. I could have.”
“Instead, you wanted to scare the shit out of me?”
“No, I just—” I glance away. She’s glaring at me now and I feel completely hollow.
How am I supposed to explain that even when I’m surrounded by my supposed cousins, none of that feels real? But when she’s around, when she’s giving me hell and treating me like a bastard, somehow I feel more seen than I ever have in my life? And I wanted to come here for the same reason I followed her from Bloody Strike the other night.
I wanted to be near her. I wanted to make sure she was okay.
I wanted to take care of her.
Which would only piss her off.
And since I’m a sick bastard, I like that.
“Call next time,” she says, her voice flat and hard. “And if I don’t answer the door, assume I’m not home and do what normal people do.”