Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94686 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94686 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
He waved away a few reporters as his main guard maneuvered us through the crowd. “Have you considered my job offer?”
“It’s not a job, Chase.”
“You would be the director of my food committee. Everything needs to be revamped. I would like that well-trained tongue sampling all of my businesses’ plates and making suggestions on how to improve them.”
“It’s not a job. It’s a bunch of chains and locks that will snare me to you, and let’s not kid ourselves. Those chains of employment will probably bind me to your dick.”
He smacked my behind. “I don’t need chains to have you on my cock, tesoro. There are other ways.”
“Behave. There are cameras everywhere, probably recording you spank my ass barely two weeks after the supposed love of your life died in a plane crash. Is that really how you want to be portrayed?”
“Your man only bows down to you. The rest of the world I ignore.” He brushed off his shoulder and exuded that same slick, rich boy swagger that radiated around him when I first met him.
“Just behave, please.”
“I haven’t seen you in a week.” He flashed another mocking smile for the cameras. “I won’t fucking behave tonight. You’ll be lucky if my fingers aren’t inside of you by the time the appetizers hit the table.”
A blaze of fire shot to my most intimate place. Only Chase could do that to me—make me wet with a threat lathered in lust. “We said we would take it slow.”
“No. We arrived in the States and you said you needed space.”
“And time.”
“Yes.” He sneered, but fixed his face. “That damn word again. Time.”
“It’s not that bad. I saw you last week.” I’d made him dinner at my apartment. Nothing too crazy for my baby—steak, potatoes, and cheese broccoli with a slice of cinnamon-crusted apple pie and a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Gabe had helped me hand-pick all the ingredients at his favorite gourmet shop. I’d managed not to burn anything. Many didn’t understand how I could love food so much, yet really suck in my own execution of meals. I got it. I was simply a food enthusiast, not a hopeful chef. Did people expect theater addicts to also act well or sports fans to have their own skill on the basketball court? Thankfully, the meal turned out great and Chase loved it.
God, that night was magical.
Lit candles decorated the entire dining area, lots of them. I’d put together a lovely playlist of slow Beatles’ songs. Chase damned sure deserved to be spoiled in any way possible.
After all. . .he’d killed for me.
I pushed that thought out of my mind. That had been the hardest thing to deal with as we flew back home from Italy. Chase had taken his ex-lover’s life, just so I could live without any fear of danger. He’d shot her, right in the center of her chest, two bullets to her heart, and ’hadn’t shed one tear.
Yet the plane ride home had been silent.
I’d held him the whole night in that darkened quiet. I kissed his head and made love to him, trying my best to show him with my body what I couldn’t just tell him with my words.
When we landed, he’d expected me to go back to Willow Park with him. How could I? How could he? Too much had happened. The history in that place was too much for anyone to deal with. I had nightmares about that place—Dawn’s battered ghost floating through the halls, her body chewed and abused from Benny’s sick hands.
Don’t think about it.
I couldn’t go back with Chase. He begged me to move into a new place with him, but I didn’t think I was ready. I just needed time. A week or two, maybe three. Time. Just to make sure my decision wasn’t based on the shedding of Wendy’s blood or the raging hormones that heated every time he came into my vicinity.
I’d managed to avoid him for a whole week, until he called and demanded that we see each other. I’d obliged. Truth be told, every damned hour and day away from him suffocated me. It was like I couldn’t breathe or think. Why I enjoyed torturing myself, I would never know.
Maybe because I’m just so scared. Chase scares me. His love. His dedication. It. . .
None of that mattered. I’d invited him over for dinner with the intention of spoiling him. He deserved that at least, after I’d been so cold with my avoidance.
We had the whole apartment to ourselves.
Viv and Troy had still not returned to Oshane. They’d been too busy with the task of hiding Lucy from Benny. Dear old psychotic Dad had not been happy to go upstairs and find a dead Wendy in Chase’s arms. Benny had tried to attack Chase. Troy and several of his own guards had restrained him. He’d tried to attack Chase. And of course, Chase held a gun. Escalation into more violence had been so close, too freaking close. If I hadn’t rushed upstairs, embraced Benny, and calmed him down, who knows what would’ve happened?