Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
I collapse forward and bury my face in my hands, giving myself over the sorrow.
Chapter Six
Zack
I’m torn as my woman breaks down and sobs into her hands. One part of me wants to go to her and place my hand on her shoulder, squeezing supportively so she knows I’m here and I’ll always be here.
Another part of me wants to leap to my feet and charge out of the building, hunting up and down the streets just in case this Jerry bastard is stupid enough to hang around and give me another chance to get my hands on him. Only this time, I won’t let him go when I haul him off his feet.
I’ll crush his pervert’s neck in my hand until he can’t remember what it feels like to breathe properly.
Zoey’s words bounce around my head.
When she told me about how Jerry said they belonged together, they were going to get married, I couldn’t help but think that’s how I feel about her.
How is she going to react if I unload all of this onto her, if I share my true desires with her? Will she brand me the same as Jerry?
Rare indecision moves through me, flurrying through my gut like poison.
But in the end, there’s no way I can just sit here as she collapses into heartache.
I move across the room and stand over her, reaching down and placing my hand on her back. I haven’t got much experience with crying women – any, really – so I do my best.
I rub her back in small motions, hoping this can somehow take some of the pain away. She shudders and I think she wants me to stop. But then she reaches up and grips onto my hand.
The predator in me snarls at the closeness, willing me to guide her hand to my manhood, to stroke it up and down my swollen length so she can feel how primal my need for her is. I want her to feel my body’s hunger, my seed’s desire to surge up inside of her and make a home in her womb.
I beat back the instinct, warning myself this isn’t about that…
Fuck, what sort of a monster would I be if I leaped on her now, like every pulsing instinct inside of me is willing me to do?
“It’s okay,” I whisper, even if it’s not even close to okay. It’s all I can think to say. “I won’t let him hurt you. I swear.”
She laughs through her sob, sitting up and turning her face so her gorgeous hair comes to rest over her forehead. I can’t help it. I reach out and brush it away, tucking it behind her ear.
She tilts her head at the movement, as though seeking to make our touch last longer. There’s something so damn intimate about the gesture.
Another pulse moves through me, urgent, hungry, primal.
“How are you going to stop him?” she asks. “You can’t stay here forever. If I call the police, they’ll do their best. They always do their best. But he knows how to play the system. He’ll just lie low for a while until everything settles down, and then he’ll pop back into my life. It’s how it always goes.”
I bite down, tension moving through my head. My forehead feels like it’s cramping with the rage moving through me. Every predator’s instinct in me is singing out for battle, for gun smoke and sand and roaring men and the immediacy of violence.
“I will not let anything happen to you,” I snarl again, deeper and firmer this time. “I swear it, Zoey.”
Her eyes widen, beautiful and innocent and mine. “How can you stop him?”
“You’ll stay with me.” I make the offer without thinking. It feels like the only thing I can do, not just the right thing to do. “I live in a penthouse with security monitoring the building twenty-four-seven. There’s no way he’ll be able to get to you.”
She stands and paces over to the window. It’s only a short walk. Something drops in my stomach when she stands silhouetted against the setting evening sunlight, the sun blistering around her.
She has a perfect shape, her hips outlined gorgeously, making me want to sprint over to her and grab onto her childbearing hips. I imagine driving my manhood against her ass, grinding up and down so she knows this is real.
“Why would you do that?” She doesn’t turn as she asks the question, as though she can’t bear to look at me. “We don’t even know each other. And you said my letter was presumptuous.”
“No. I said that was what I was going to say. But it was a bullshit excuse. Your letter was…” I trail off, searching for the right words. “It hit me deeply, Zoey. It hit me deeper than anything I’ve ever felt if you want the fucking truth.”