Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Momma said make him work. Hell, the only work Dr. Victor Finch has put in occurred between the sheets.
34
VICTOR
Standing in a puddle of rainwater in Luxury’s foyer, my eyes rivet over the bow of Luxury’s thick, pouted lips. Obstinate hands settle on her trim waist. A pair of jeans cling to her soft, sensual hips. A magenta knit sweater leaves her left shoulder bare, vulnerable to a wanka like me. All right, I’ll grovel, let her tiny heels spike across my spine. I’ll let her delight in masochism because I’ve secretly loved the pain of crawling after a woman who doesn’t know my identity. Once satiated, I’ll resume my reign over the glorious beauty.
Just as I start to speak, Luxury ascends to the balls of her feet, planting her index finger over my mouth. “Wait. Not here.”
It was a hasty reaction, followed by the removal of her slightly trembling finger. Next, her gaze retreats as if she's holding onto a single shred of sanity. As Luxury turns away, I’m content that Dr. Whitson is nowhere in sight in the spacious living room.
Mesmerized by Luxury’s arse, I watch her ascend the stairs. After a few beats, I lock the front door and follow.
Cool air whistles through Luxury’s bedroom. I close us in the room then pull my drenched shirt away from my skin as she stalks to the opposite side, favoring space.
“Little One, I crave you day in and day out.” I part the room in seconds, dripping water with every step I take. I run my wet hand on my soaking blazer and scoff at the absurdity. My thumb grazes her chin, pulling Luxury’s eyes back up to me. When she looks everywhere else, I descend to my knees, taking her wrists in my hands.
Once I’ve placed her hands about my throat, I grit, “You’re angry. Here’s your reparation.” Give it the best you’ve got, Little One. It’ll make me feel less like shite for my next proposal—keeping you—with no real commitment for as long as I can hide you from my Queen.
While her hands slide loose, I hold them steady. “Squeeze!”
She gives it her all.
A tug
A yank.
No constricting.
But after another jerk, I allow Luxury to slip her hands free. She pushes my chest while I pop up, looming over her. The hard glint in my eye is the best form of apology I’m capable of contributing.
“No, I get it, Vic. Little ol’ me intimidated you.” Her eyes glisten with unshed tears.
I fork my lip through my teeth to deter a smile. That’s the truth. I’d never feared death in my occupation. But for Luxury to fall into such a permanent snare. It would eat the last shred of my humanity, but the part of me who was molded into an arsehole doesn’t care. I simply must have the girl.
“Vic, I could try to rationalize my sudden obsession with you, saying that Russian asshole shook up my world. That I had my friggen life flash before my eyes, so I was swayed by emotion. But—”
I sweep Luxury off her feet, holding her to eye level and give her petite frame a slight shake. “But what?”
“I’m fucking in love with you, Vic!” Twin rivulets flow from the amber eyes of the beauty I can’t console.
I can’t return the favor.
“Victor, how can you stand there and not respond to me? I know we’ve only known each other twenty-eight days. You’ve catapulted my life into this overwhelming thing where I fear and desire you. I’m an indecisive person, but on day eighty-two, I see myself proposing to you.” Passion bleeds into her tone. “The girl who lacked self-esteem opened her dummy mouth, and said, I love you.”
“Luxury, I can give you everything but that.” The taboo word settles at the tip of my tongue. “I’m not the marriable kind, Little One.”
“I’m not the one then. Throughout my life, I’ve watched people. Men will care for other men’s children while neglecting their own. They’ll settle down, marry after stealing every single good year of the woman they just broke up with. Men do what they want. The other day, I fucked up.”
A hasty hand glides over a river. “I could’ve waited a while when it’s deemed appropriate to share affections. But I felt something between us. Or . . . I thought I did. Then I saw something in your eyes. You won’t love me whether I give you every year of my life until I was at my last breath.”
My shoulders echo the fall of the Ottoman Empire. “I can’t.”
Fire flashes in her eyes. There’s no saving this moment. No placing her pussy on my chin and having her ride out her aggression. For a moment, I try, clasping her in my hands. Fuming, Luxury bristles between my palms. “I said put me down and leave me the fuck alone, Victor!”