Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
“Okay.”
He holds my gaze a moment longer. I realize what he’s telling me. His hands will be bloody before this is over. He’s the General in a war on the side that just suffered a terrible attack.
“You do what you need to do,” I tell him. Maybe it makes me a terrible person, but I want revenge on the parties responsible for nearly taking him from me, too.
He nods. “I’ll never let business touch you or our family.”
“I know.” I understand how this works. I know what I’m getting. I’ll take it. I’ll take Joey, exactly as he is. Family and all.
He nudges my knees open and rubs the head of his cock between my legs as he nibbles along the side of my neck.
“Yes, please,” I murmur. I’m ready for him. No foreplay needed. Waking up beside him was enough.
“I missed you so fucking much,” he growls in my ear. He presses inside me, and I gasp at the pleasure.
“Me too,” I whisper. My eyes roll back at the sensation of him filling me.
He rocks in and out, and this movement, this dance, this reunion feels like a clearing of everything we’ve been through. A reset. We’re coming back to the communion of our two bodies. Our two spirits. The two beings drawn together from the start.
He was there for me at my dad’s funeral because his soul recognized mine. His heart resonated with me.
I know now that Joey is my destiny.
My always.
The man I wanted but was afraid to claim.
I couldn’t be more grateful that he claimed me.
“You’re marrying me,” he says on a thrust.
I smile. “Are you asking or telling me?”
“Telling.” His eyes glitter. “You’re mine. No chance I’m giving you up ever again. Capisce?”
I smile. “Got it, bossman.”
He thrusts harder. “You’d better.”
My internal muscles start to squeeze and clench around his cock.
“Aw, Sophie. You feel so good. I’m not gonna last long.”
I arch to receive him even deeper. Reach around and grip his ass, sinking my nails into his skin to urge him on.
“Fanculo. Sophie,” he chokes, his thrusts growing faster. More erratic. “I need you so much right now.”
Those words send me toppling over the edge into full orgasm.
Joey curses and pounds into me, and another dozen strokes, and he comes, too, shoving deep to spend inside me as I spasm and squeeze around him.
“I love you,” he whispers, wincing from his injuries as he settles on his side.
I hold his stubbled face between my hands. “I love you so much.”
Joey
Sophie brews coffee while I make her eggs and toast. She’s everything to me. The reason to make sure this all comes out right.
While she eats, I call the hospital and learn Al’s still in a coma.
Last night, I took the reins with a show of furious leadership because Sammy was right—it’s imperative to demonstrate I have control, have a plan, and am not taking shit from anyone. I owe it to Al to keep shit in line until his recovery. Besides, I have no desire to get a bullet in the back of my head from someone who thinks he can lead better.
All the men in the organization are shaking down every contact they have to get information.
I send a message to Ned, my FBI contact.
“Would they let me in to see Al?” Sophie asks.
I raise my brows, surprised. “You want to see him?”
“I could try giving him some energy.” She shrugs. “Maybe it would help pull him out of the coma.”
I don’t know what I did to deserve Sophie’s complete change of heart, but I’m so fucking grateful.
“Yeah. That sounds great. It can’t hurt, right?”
“Right.”
An hour later, Sophie’s standing at Al’s side, holding her hands above his body. I sit on the side of Al’s hospital bed peering into my brother’s face. “His eyelids fluttered when you started,” I tell Sophie. I continue to watch. His hands move at his sides. “Look. His fists uncurled. I think he might feel it.”
“Good.” Sophie looks like a goddess with light illuminating her. The glow of pregnancy and the energy work give her a Madonna-like grace and peace.
One of Al’s eyes is black, and the coloring in his face is a gray-green. But as we watch, Al sighs and moves his lips, his eyelids opening slightly.
“Thanks for this, bella.”
“I’m happy to be able to do something. I hope it helps.”
Al’s eyelids flutter again. When they blink open, I grip his arm. “Al? Can you hear me?”
His eyes close, and his lips move. No sound issues, but when his lids open again, the brown eyes focus directly on my face.
I put my hand on Al’s shoulder. “Fractured skull. And some cracked ribs. Your head will hurt for a few weeks, but you’ll heal.”
Al gives a barely perceptible nod, and his brows draw together.
“Does it hurt?”
Al’s tongue works in his mouth as if he’s testing it out, then he mutters, “Yeah.”