Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“I am,” Ember says. She stands up tall. “Do you want me to take pictures?”
“Just while we hand over the big check,” she says with a wink.
Ember slides into artist mode, her eyes trained on various people. I watch her take snapshot after snapshot until finally, she lowers the camera and turns to me, her cheeks either flushed from the heat of the room or from the weight of my eyes on her.
“Done yet?” I’m getting impatient to have her alone. My thumb grazes the small of her back.
Rafail and Semyon join us, their hands in their pockets. Rafail gives me a curt nod. “All taken care of.”
Semyon nods. “Anything you need from us now?”
I shake my head. “A promise that nothing happens tonight that will tear me and my wife from much-deserved rest.”
Rafail nods. “Granted.”
I turn to Ember. It feels like we’ve had three nights rolled up into one, and I’m at the end of an exhausting marathon.
“Let’s get some rest. No more eyes on anyone else, baby.”
Her breath catches before her hand slides along the front of my jacket, tugging me closer. I grin at her.
She gives me the barest hint of a kiss, but it’s enough to make my blood hum.
Let them see. Let them all know exactly who she belongs to.
I pull back, brushing a strand of hair from her face and tucking it behind an ear. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Don’t we have to, like… wait until people are going home?”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
We head to the room. Ember’s fingers are threaded through mine as if to ground herself to me. Leaning into me on the landing, she presses her cheek to my shoulder. “We survived the night.”
“Yeah,” I say on a breath. “All of it. It feels like we’ve lived a full lifetime in twenty-four hours.”
“But we did it together.”
“I knew we would.”
Back in the room, I lock the door and throw every dead bolt into place.
I don’t say anything. I tug the zipper on the back of her new dress down, watching the silky material peel away. It pools at her feet, leaving her bare.
Wordlessly, she reaches for me next and unfastens every button on my dress shirt before pulling it off. Leaning in, she kisses the swell of my bicep. “So hot,” she whispers with a wink. “So fucking hot.”
“Oh yeah?” I flex just to show off, and she predictably whimpers. She leans over and kisses my cheek next.
“Shower?” she asks, her eyes flicking up to mine.
“That sounds good. And food?”
“Mm. I’m starving. Can we order delivery or something?”
“Anything for my queen.” I pull out my phone and open an app. “Anything in particular?”
“Pizza,” she breathes out. “New York style, with pepperoni, and if they have any cheesecake… supposed to be pretty good around here.”
I grin at her and order a large pepperoni pizza and a few slices of New York-style cheesecake. I text Yana and ask her to bring it up when it arrives, since she’s the one most likely to mind her own business.
I turn the shower on and toss our dirty clothes to the side. Steam billows up around us. I open the shower curtain and gesture for her to step inside. I welcome the hot water as it curls around our bodies.
On a normal day, this would be like foreplay. Tonight? Sex is the furthest thing from my mind, and I want to make sure that she feels safe and taken care of.
It seems she wants the same for me. The way she touches me tenderly, smoothing a washcloth over the suds until the water runs clear.
The shower is small, not really built for two, but we make it work.
“I don’t realize how unnaturally huge you are until you’re squashed under a showerhead,” she says, her lips twitching.
I pinch her wet ass with my palm, and she squeals. “I’ll give you unnaturally huge,” I mutter before I grip her other cheek and knead. I bend and kiss her.
Water streams over us, the rhythmic sound of it soothing like rain on glass. She leans on my chest, her forehead pressed to my collarbone. My hand rests lightly on the back of her neck, fingers tangled in the wet strands of her hair.
I spin her around and tilt her head back. Her eyes close when I massage shampoo into her hair, suds it up, then rinse it slowly. Conditioner next, then another rinse.
I imagine we’re washing everything away. The memory of her assault. The lies between us. Anything that will tear us apart ever again.
Neither of us speaks. We don’t need to.
My chest rises and falls beneath her touch when she turns to face me, soap bubbling under her palm. I haven’t let anyone take care of me like this in… god, I can’t remember. My parents died when I was so young, and Rafail had his work cut out for him with a houseful of kids. We learned independence early.