Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
It’s just us.
“I love you, Maybel Jacobs, but if you keep taunting me, I will show you what it’s like to be hate fucked. Now stop teasing me.”
He releases me, and all I can do is smile.
“Fine. Let’s shower, and then we can go downstairs and find something to eat.”
Drew carries me into the bathroom, placing me on the edge of the counter. He opens the glass shower doors and turns the water on, twisting the dial to hot. It doesn’t take long for steam to fill the space, and when he returns, he picks me up and carries me into the shower with him.
“I feel like I’ve waited my entire life for this moment,” Drew whispers against my lips.
“To shower?” I giggle.
He glares, “No. To hold you in my arms without the fear of something dark and sinister hanging above us.”
“Only the most hard-fought love is worth it,” I soothe, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Fuck, I can’t get over hearing you say that you love me.”
“Well, you better get used to it because I’m never going to stop saying it.” I smile and fall deeper into his penetrating gaze. After a while, we take care in cleaning each other and washing away the weight of what happened today.
I’m not sure how long we stay under the stream of water, but we remain wrapped up in one another until the water turns cold. When we get out, Drew wraps me in a fluffy white towel and dries me off before drying himself off.
My belly rumbles loudly, and I grin at him, knowing he heard it too. I grab a T-shirt, pair of panties, and sleep shorts from the dresser, and turn back to Drew. Shit. He doesn’t have anything to wear.
“Why don’t I stay up here, and you go and get the food. I’ll be waiting here with a reward when you get back.” He playfully wiggles his eyebrows at me.
Drew’s awakened a sexual beast inside me.
“Fine. I’ll go get something from the kitchen. You stay here.”
“Hurry…” he teases, and I disappear from the room with a smile.
I’m almost in the kitchen when the sound of shouting filters into my ears. It’s getting late. No one else should be here except the couple of people who stay on for the night if we need anything.
Just inside the threshold of the kitchen, I pause. I take in the entire scene in an instant. Sebastian stands near the black granite countertops, and the maid, Elyse, is near the stainless steel fridge, her small body hunched over, her bleeding hand clutched tight to her chest.
There’s blood on Sebastian’s hand, which I assume is Elyse’s. Did he hurt her? I can’t fathom him doing that, but then again, we all do things differently when the stress on us is different.
“I told you not to touch it, and you did anyway. The only person you have to blame for that cut is yourself!” Seb’s voice is a shout that fills my ears.
The maid turns, tears slipping down her cheeks, dragging mascara with them. “I’m sorry. It’s my job. You can’t just leave broken glass on the floor. It’s unsafe.”
He drags a crystal glass filled with something off the counter beside him and takes a long swallow. “I’m not safe either, but that doesn’t seem to scare you.”
It’s a whip crack of a response, and I gasp.
“Sebastian.”
His eyes find mine, and for a flash, I see guilt there. “Just go, clean yourself up,” he tells her. “If you need stitches, I’ll make sure you get to the hospital.”
The maid gives me a quick glance, then rushes out of the room toward the employee wing.
I’m considering going after her when the back kitchen door swings open and a wave of chilly air slams into me. I’m both stunned and concerned when a tall brunette comes walking, her body teetering on sky-high heels and the tightest red dress I’ve ever seen. Who the hell is this person? A man with a shaved head follows her, wheeling several stacked suitcases in.
“I’m home,” she greets in a liquid honey voice, her eyes all for Sebastian.
“What the hell is going on?” I ask, marching over, instantly seeing the way Sebastian’s shoulders go rigid.
Seb looks worse than he did when we left him. His usually lovely curls disheveled and shoved out of his face. He’s changed, his dress shirt partially unbuttoned, and the black sweatpants he’s wearing are totally out of character.
“Sebastian? What’s going on?” I whisper, barely sparing the new woman a glance.
“Nothing. Everything is fine,” he grits out.
The woman steps forward and extends her hand like she wants me to kiss it, but I shake it instead. “Don’t be rude, Sebastian. Who is your little friend?”
Sebastian looks like he’s going to blow a blood vessel at any second, so I save him from defeat and answer myself.