Total pages in book: 184
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
“No, it wasn’t. It was his.” Then, “He said that rooms were booked separately and he needed his space to focus.”
“What?” he bites out.
“Yes, that’s what he said and—”
He breathes out sharply, stepping back. “I’m going to go have a talk with him.”
“What?” I step forward, grabbing the sleeve of his T-shirt. “No. You’re not.”
He’s not looking at me, though. His face is dipped, and his eyes are on my hand fisting his T-shirt. The heat of his dark gaze is enough to let me move it, but I stand firm.
And call out, “Stellan?”
He lifts his eyes. “What?”
I want to say other things, other important things, but I end up asking, “Is that what you really want? Me sharing a room with… him.”
I shouldn’t have asked him that. It’s none of his business.
But God, I…
I couldn’t help myself.
His chest moves again. Not only that, though. I see the vein on the side of his neck pulsating as well with how tight he’s holding himself.
“No.”
“So then—”
“What I want doesn’t matter, does it?”
I let a few beats pass before I say, “Well, this is what I want. I want a separate room and I want space, so.”
He does the same, letting a few beats pass before speaking. “You’re all alone here.”
I let go of his sleeve and fold my arms across my chest. “So? I live in a house all alone.”
“That’s because your parents are dickheads.”
“No, they know that I can handle myself,” I tell him. “That is to say I can handle myself, thank you very much.”
He grits his teeth. “You’re not fucking welcome because you can’t. Because what the fuck are you going to do if someone sneaks into your room in the middle of the night? Dance him to death?”
“For your information, there’s a thing called hotel security, okay?” I raise my eyebrows. “They have that here. And secondly, there’s another thing called a lock. This thing here”—I point to the knob—“you turn it a certain way and it locks the door. From the inside, okay? So you can rest easy.”
And I give myself credit for not stumbling my way through that speech because all through my explanation, he doesn’t move his eyes away from me. He doesn’t look anywhere else, least of all the knob I was pointing at. And gosh, he can be scary like this.
All authoritative and commanding.
Then he flicks his eyes downward, taking in the fluttering pulse on the side of my neck, my trembling chest, my bare arms, my night pajamas as a whole. Making me realize they’re skimpy. Spaghetti-sleeved top with a wide neck and short shorts. All lacy and baby pink.
I curl my toes on the carpet as he takes his time perusing my body.
And I bite my lip when he reaches my feet and takes in my curled toes.
Then, bringing his gaze up, “If someone wants to sneak into your room in the middle of the night, trust me when I say, no amount of security or locks guarding your door is going to stop him. A firing squad even couldn’t stop him. He’ll bust through your door as he’s taking bullets after bullets just so he gets to look at your face before he takes his last breath, yeah?”
My heart is racing.
My breaths are messy.
And gosh, that ache in my tummy has traveled down to my pussy now.
“Y-you would,” I whisper.
“What?”
I lick my trembling lips. “You would stop him.” His nostrils flare and I keep going, “Your room’s on the same floor, isn’t it? Shep told me when he was bringing me up. So you could guard my door, if you’re so worried about someone getting in. You’re my self-appointed bodyguard anyway.”
Things flash in his eyes then.
Dark things.
Fiery things. Molten things.
Possessive things.
“We both know that’s not what I am,” he rasps. “Because that’s not what you need.”
“You think I…” I clutch the doorknob tightly, shifting on my feet, trying to get rid of the hurt. “I need a daddy?”
“I think you need someone to take care of you and keep you safe twenty-four seven,” he growls.
I blush, shifting on my feet again, and he notices my movements.
I know he noticed them before, but this time, he takes a whiff, a visible whiff of the air as if smelling me. Like he did the other night and holy God, I melt.
I melt right there on the floor at his feet.
Somehow, I try to put words together. “Fine then. The job’s already yours. Can I please go to sleep now?”
Because this is too much.
His proximity. His authority.
His care.
No, Isadora. He does not care about you. Not really.
Not how you want him to.
The fact that I just want to kiss him and kiss him. I even taste him on my tongue and we’re standing six feet apart.
He looks me over one last time before stepping back again. “Lock your door.”