Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 136731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
“I’ll be back late.”
I keep my voice even. “Okay.”
“Look at me.”
I really don’t want to, but his tone is firm and unyielding, and after years of having submission beaten into you, it becomes little more than a reflex. My eyes meet his, stormy and full of concern, and my mouth parts, my breath leaving me in a whoosh. It’s like being run over by a bus, then the bus reversing, and being run down again. My breath hitches and I don’t realize I’m crying until I feel the wetness trail my cheeks.
“Hey,” he starts, reaching out to wipe away a tear with his thumb, running his fingers down my jawline.
And I can’t stop the whispered words from escaping. “Please come back.”
He frowns. “I will.”
“Good,” I mutter, blinking through the torrent of streaming tears, then speak just above a hush. “Because right now, you’re all I have.”
Before I can assess the impact of those words, I am swooped off the bed and lifted into a strong pair of arms. They hold me tight. They are unwavering, and for the first time in a long while, I feel safe.
“Get out,” he barks, and I hear the notorious sound of heels clicking from the doorway of the bathroom, toward the bedroom door, and then out into the hall.
My face buried into his shoulder, he cradles me as if I were the most precious thing in his life, and it leaves a chaotic mess of thoughts in its trail. His large hand slides up my back to the base of my neck, where his warm fingers hold me to him, and I wonder if Julius needs the contact as much as I do.
“Look at me,” he speaks gently. This is not a demand, but a beseeching request.
With a light sniff, I pull back, clutching the material at his sides with everything I have. He searches my face a long moment before leaning in and pressing his warm, full lips to my forehead, softly, with tender regret. I press myself into him and take all that he gives me. When, finally, he pulls away, he lets out a long, weary sigh before glaring at me, but there is no heat behind it. It’s all for show. And to back up my claim, he speaks softly, taking care. “Tomorrow, we’re going to talk, yeah? And we’re not leaving a single stone unturned. ‘Cause things…” He eyes me cautiously, as though I’m a frightened animal set to bolt at any given moment. He finishes his statement. “Things have changed.”
His startling admission has me blinking up at him. How have the tables turned so? And why did his declaration secretly thrill me? Realizing he expected some form of response, I gave him a short nod of agreement.
His soft face turns inflexible when he avows, “You best not play me, Alejandra. It wouldn’t end well for you.”
Without a thought, my mouth opens, and I return, “I already tried.”
With that, his face softens once more, and a small smile plays on his lips. “Oh, yeah? How’d that go?”
“Not very well,” I admit quietly, without an ounce of shame.
And the giddiness that whooshes through me as he dips his head, his shoulders bouncing in silent laughter, is priceless. For a short moment, I feel as normal as I possibly can.
Even more so when he lifts his smiling face and shocks me with the brightness of his million-dollar smile. Thrice as much when he leans toward me and presses his full, soft lips to mine in what would essentially be the shortest, most precious kiss of my brief life.
Soft-mouthed. Closed-lipped. And perfect in every possible way. So much that the shock of it makes me want to cry all over again.
My chest aches and a spark flares through me, warming my cold heart. Hope reignites.
Would it truly hurt to confide in Julius, just a little?
It’s not like things can get worse for me.
I’m so sick of being hurt by men, and although fear plagues me, somewhere deep inside of me calls out to give him a chance.
The male, woodsy scent of his cologne fills my lungs, and I wish to drown in the smell of him, never wanting to come up for air, willingly forfeiting my life for this single moment.
Not meaning to in the slightest, I release the material at his sides and run my hands up his firm, muscled chest, gripping his large shoulders with my small hands as tightly as I can. Julius releases my lips and breaks my heart when he shows me true, unselfish affection, keeping his face close to mine then running his nose up the length of mine before returning to peck my lax lips once more.
“It’s all about us now,” he coaxes, running his firm hands down my back, resting them on my hips then squeezing lightly.