Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 81930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
“Ouch.” He held his hand over his head.
“Owie.”
He wasn’t sure who started giggling first. But they ended up collapsed on the bed, each of them breathless.
“Damn. I don’t think I could have fucked that up more if I’d tried,” he said. “Here, you need cleaning up. You’re a mess.”
“Thanks,” she said dryly.
He awkwardly blotted at her face with a tissue.
“Whoa, you’re smothering me in tissue paper,” she said, grabbing his hand and pulling it from her face. She grabbed some clean tissues and wiped his face with much more expertise.
“I’m sorry, La-la. I got carried away and pushed you too far too soon. Cullen says I’m a bulldozer when I want something and he’s right.”
“So you’re saying you’re a spoiled brat.”
He pouted. “But an adorable one, right?”
“Gorgeous,” she agreed.
“But I’m sorry. Getting what I want shouldn’t come at the expense of what you need. Or your comfort. I’d say I didn’t mean to push, but that would be a lie. I’m terribly impatient, you know that.”
“I do.”
“But I’d never want to hurt you, La-la. Truth is, I’d do anything to make you smile. To have you love me back. If you want, we don’t have to go to Rawhide. Just please don’t tell me to leave you.”
Her words got stuck in her throat.
She knew Marcus had a vulnerable side. He hid his wounds with jokes and laughter and by throwing himself into his work. But those wounds were there. Losing first his mom, then his dad had affected him. And right now, he’d pulled the bandages off and let her see them. Something she knew he rarely did.
She grabbed hold of him. Holding him as hard as she could. Her body protested. Her poor abused, bruised back practically screamed with pain.
But she deserved the pain for putting him through this. For making him ever think she could leave him.
“Never,” she swore. “I’ll never leave you, Marcus.”
“You promise?” His voice was wobbly and uncertain.
He was killing her.
What was the point of this? Of keeping him close, but not too close?
To protect herself?
Screw protecting herself when she was hurting the one person she loved. The one person who had been there for her.
If it didn’t work out. If he left her one day, yeah, she’d be devastated. But she could deal with the pain. She was used to it. Loneliness was an old friend.
But if she had her way, Marcus would never feel lonely or rejected or hurt ever again.
She drew back, cupping his face with her hands.
“Damn. First, I make you cry, then I lose it like a big baby.”
“Hush, Marcus,” she said firmly.
His eyebrows rose. “Whoa. Channelling some inner Domme, there?”
She didn’t know how. She’d never felt like she wanted or could be a Domme. But if it got him to listen to her for a moment, then she would fake it.
“You didn’t make me cry.”
“I totally made you cry. Big, huge, snotty sobs.”
“They were not snotty!” She smacked the side of his arm. “You’re so bad.”
“So bad I’m good.” He wiggled his eyebrows jokingly. “We don’t need to go to Rawhide Ranch. We can go anywhere. I’ve heard some good things about Rarotonga.”
“We’re not going to Rarotonga.”
“Fiji, then? Samoa?”
“No. We’re going to Rawhide,” she said firmly.
“We are?”
“You love it there. And even though I’m scared, I admit that I’m curious too. And I want to go there for you. I want you to have what you need. Because I love you.”
“You love me?” he asked.
“Yes, Marcus Cutler. I love your sassy, snarky, gorgeous ass.”
“And the rest of me, right? I mean, the ass is magnificent, but there’s a whole lot more of me to love.”
“And I love every inch. Well, maybe not that weird freckle you have on your big toe–”
“You love big toe freckle, admit it.” He rolled them so he was straddling her as she lay on her back on the bed. Then he started tickling her. “You love big toe freckle! Say it! Say it!”
She screamed with laughter. “I give in! I confess!”
He paused. “You confess what?”
“I love big toe freckle. Just as much as I love every other part of you.”
“Thank fucking Christ. I thought I was going to have to lock you up in the basement until you agreed to be mine. It was going to be a time commitment, but I was prepared to do it. For you.”
“Thank you for your dedication,” she said solemnly.
His face grew serious. “I really do love you, Isla. You’re meant to be mine. The first time you saw Marcus Junior, you didn’t run screaming like everyone else.”
“I can see how he would scare others,” she said.
“Yeah, because he’s so big. I get it. But see? You were made for me.”
She smiled. “But I’m not a… not a–”
“Top? Domme? Mommy? I know. If anything, you’re more submissive than me.”