Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 155903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
His dick hung down directly in front of her face. It looked heavy and thick.
Delicious.
And she still owed him a blow job.
“My eyes are up here.”
She snapped her gaze up to his face immediately.
Oops.
“You should have told me.”
Faith licked her lips. “You wouldn’t have let me live there if I had.”
“Of course I fucking wouldn’t!”
“How did you find out?” she asked.
“Cairn figured it out when he searched through the house. Alejandro questioned Cammie, and she confirmed that she was fucking charging you rent to live in the basement with the rodents. And she’s your best friend?”
When he put it like that . . .
“Fuck, it’s a wonder you haven’t gotten seriously ill. There was black mold down there!”
“I know.”
He breathed in deep and let it out. “That broke rules four and six. And eight.”
“How did it break eight?” she questioned. Four was safety. A stretch since she didn’t think she was unsafe. Six was full disclosure. A rule she still wasn’t sure about. But eight was letting him spoil her.
“You took away my chance to spoil you. It also broke rule nine.”
“There is no rule nine,” she pointed out.
“There is a rule nine. I’ve texted it to you.”
Of course he had.
“I’m in the shower, I don’t have my phone.”
“Rule nine is health. You will not do anything to put your health at risk. Living in a mold and rodent-infested basement with no working window is a health issue.”
“I didn’t have much choice when I moved here.” That wasn’t quite true, though, was it?
She could have moved in with her cousin like her mom had wanted her to . . .
“I just . . . I was saving up to move out. To get my own place. But I just needed a bit more money.”
“And now you don’t.” He reached over and turned the water on, turning it down cooler. “You won’t ever go back there.”
She nodded. No, she wouldn’t.
“Just to make things clear, you are in trouble for not telling me. Even though I’m not going to punish you tonight.”
“Okay, Daddy.”
Truthfully, she didn’t really have the energy to care.
“And your friend can’t stay for long.”
“But she—”
“No buts. She put you in a basement. She defended him tonight. I get that she’s likely been abused, and that’s why I won’t retaliate for what she did to you. But it also doesn’t mean that I can give her sanctuary.”
“I can’t just cut her off. She . . . she could go back to him.”
“That won’t happen,” he said as he squirted some of her shampoo into his hand. Then he grabbed her hand with his free one, pulling her up.
Drawing her under the water, he ran the shampoo through her hair, massaging her scalp.
“Lean against me,” he murmured.
Pressing her forehead to his chest, she let him wash her hair. She was practically asleep by the time he moved to the conditioner.
When he was finished washing her hair, he had her sit on the bench again.
“I need to clean myself,” she protested as he grabbed her razor and kneeled in front of her.
“You’ve already cleaned yourself. You’re not dirty, baby.” The words were said with a firmness she couldn’t ignore.
He ran a finger along her stomach. “How is your tummy?”
“It’s fine.”
“Tell me straight away if you’re in a lot of pain. If there’s any cramping or blood in your pee.”
She nodded. No one could deny him when he used that tone of voice.
Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Baby, the fact that you’re asking that means I’m not doing my job right. I’m here to take care of you.”
“I’m here for you too. I can take care of you.” She cupped his face between her hands.
“I know. But not tonight. After everything that happened . . . I have to look after you. For both of our sakes.”
Faith nodded. She could see that desire driving him. He needed this. And so did she.
“When you’re not touching me, or near me, I feel weird,” she told him. “Out of it. Like I’m not living in the here and now.”
“Then I’ll just have to keep touching you.” He grabbed one foot and put it up on his thigh.
Faith felt her cheeks heat. “What are you doing?”
“Shaving you.”
Oh God. Were her legs hairy? She frantically ran her hand over them. They didn’t feel that bad. But perhaps they did to him.
“Stop freaking out. This is just a part of me taking care of you.”
Reaching out of the shower, he grabbed a towel and patted her leg dry. Then he grabbed some shaving gel that must belong to him. Although when she glimpsed at it, she recognized a brand for women.
An expensive one.
What was that doing in his shower?
50
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Don’t you trust me?”
“That shaving gel . . . whose is it?”