Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“Even if your wife is a traitor?”
He grunts as if I punched him in the chest. “Yes.”
“Jayson—”
“Don’t.” He stands and walks into the bathroom. The door slams and the shower starts, leaving me alone.
I don’t know what to do. My head’s spinning. I’m reeling from the thought of him out there killing people for me, even though he’s clearly still hurt. Even though I think he might still despise me for what I did.
Except he can’t. Not completely. Why would he risk his life if he doesn’t care?
That seed of hope remains. Not growing, but not dimming, either.
I wait for him to finish downstairs. I hear the water turn off, and give it another few minutes before I bring him a glass of whiskey. His favorite stuff with just a couple ice cubes.
“I thought you might want—”
When I step into the room, he’s standing near the bed in nothing but a towel.
Water glistens on his bare, muscular chest. His wet hair’s pushed back in a gorgeous waterfall of pure black. The stubble makes him look rugged, and the pain in his eyes nearly breaks my heart.
“You should stay away from me,” he says, his voice hoarse.
“I just thought—” I shake my head, unable to finish that sentence. All I wanted was to do something nice for him. Pour a drink, bring it up. Something simple and normal.
He stares, eyes tearing into me. “I never once thought about hurting you. Never, not even when I thought you were the enemy.”
“Jayson—”
“Let me finish.” He steps forward. I’m so aware of his nearly naked body that it’s killing me. “I never imagined hurting you, even if I hated you. Yes, you were a burden, and I wanted to get rid of you the first chance I got—but you were also my wife, and I don’t take vows lightly. Then things changed.”
“I know,” I say, fighting back tears.
“You felt it. I know you did. Adler thinks you were faking, but he wasn’t there. He wasn’t fucking there.” Jayson’s grip on his towel tightens, his muscles flexing. Heat rushes between my legs. My ears turn bright red. “I know it isn’t the same. I didn’t really hate you, I hated the family you came from. But your hate for me, that was direct, that was pure. You hated me for me, because of what I did to your father. I understand that now. I’ve been thinking about it constantly, and I know why you did what you did.”
I shake my head, tears rolling down my cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”
“But you still betrayed me.” His tone is hard. “My hands are covered in blood because of the way I feel about you. I thought if I kept pulling the trigger, if I kept throwing myself into danger, maybe I’d find a way to outrun the way I feel about you. How can I love a girl that wanted to destroy me? That betrayed me the first chance she got? But it never got easier. It never went away. And now I’m stuck with it.”
“With what?” I ask, trying to wipe my face, but I’m crying too hard to clean the tears away.
“With the way I feel about you. I fucking hate you, Fallon. You came into my life and ruined everything. But I love you so much more, and I can’t stop, even if I want to.”
“I’m sorry,” I manage to say, gasping for air. “I’m so, so sorry. If I could take it back, I would.”
“I know. I know you would.”
“What do we do now?”
“Come here.”
I take a step forward. It kills, that single step, because it makes the hope coiled around my heart grow roots. Another step, and the hope slithers up my spine into my throat. Another and it blooms, a horrible flower, big enough to choke me.
He moves then. Comes to meet me halfway, striding forward in just his towel still, releasing his grip on the hold to wrap me in both his arms, to pull me tight against his bare chest, his beautiful lips coming down to meet mine, and that hope turns into a forest, turns into something big and bright and leafy and green and rioted-through with colors as he kisses me deep, tasting me like he’s been dreaming of this moment since he was a little boy, and maybe I have been dreaming of it too since I was a girl, dreaming of finding a partner that can make me feel something so big, so vast, so beautiful. It’s a kiss that never ends, and a kiss that lasts only moments before his hands are exploring me and the desperation I feel turns into some warmth, then something hot, then something burning into my core.
I take off my shirt. Fuck it. I shimmy out of my sweats. My bra comes next, fuck that too, and his hands are on my breasts, god, it feels so good. I moan his name, because fuck being shy too, fuck my pride and my honor, fuck everything but him.