Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 156392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 782(@200wpm)___ 626(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 782(@200wpm)___ 626(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
With her friend’s husband.
On paper only, but they don’t know that.
Yes, Eli is an infuriating bastard who’s not worth my attention, let alone this fire that’s burning in my chest, but that’s only because she’s disrespecting me.
Gemma, the good girl with better morals than religious leaders, doesn’t find it amoral to flirt with my husband in front of my face.
Unless she knows it’s all one big sham? Or he encouraged her? Did they have sex?
The fire burns hotter and wilder than the volcano that wiped out Pompeii.
I smile sweetly at her and then at Eli. “You don’t have to speak for me, Gem. My husband and I are excellent communicators.”
He grins back. “Precisely. Which is why she needs to be excused as we have an engagement this evening.”
“Do we, now? It must’ve slipped my mind, darling.”
“Your forgetfulness is one of the many things I adore about you, beautiful.”
Dick.
“You go first, babe,” I coo with a fake-as-hell tone. “I’ll be right with you.”
“We go together, sweetheart.”
“Aw, can’t breathe without me, hon?”
“I’m positively dying,” he says and offers me his hand, and when I keep staring, his slightly rough voice drowns out all other noises. “I insist.”
I take it reluctantly, but when I stand up, I swipe Gemma’s drink and raise it to my lips.
“You don’t want to do that.” His concealed anger bursts at the seams.
“Or what?” I glare at him over the rim of the glass.
All of a sudden, it feels like we’re the only people in the midst of a chaotic, faceless crowd.
“Or you’ll pay the price. Put the drink down. Now.”
The haughty order does it. He expects me to fall to my knees before His Majesty like Gemma has been itching to do since he walked through the door, but he obviously hasn’t met my trouble-wired brain lately.
Keeping eye contact with the devil, I let a victorious smile lift my lips as I down the drink in one go.
Martini.
His eyes burn hotter than the liquor washing down my throat.
“Since you insist.” I let the glass drop to the floor with a shatter.
He doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like it one bit. And for a fraction of a second, I wonder if riling him up is worth the frosty coldness in his eyes. The promise of something sinister and terrifying.
I yelp when the world tilts from beneath my feet.
Eli carries me in his arms, bridal style, and walks out the door, not giving a single fuck about everyone’s attention zeroed in on us.
“Put me down,” I hiss.
“Shut your goddamn mouth, Ava.”
The anger in his tone makes me zip it.
I definitely, absolutely, and without a shadow of a doubt hit my head during the time I’ve been married to this man.
Or else I wouldn’t be so terrifyingly excited at the promise of danger in his eyes.
8
ELI
“Let me go, damn it!”
I can’t kill my wife.
I cannot lock her up either.
Those thoughts jam-pack my head like a chant. As much as I pride myself in being a fucking ice cube when faced with pressure, one woman is able to drill a hole in my frozen exterior, hollow out my black soul, and start a fucking riot.
“Eli!” she whispers-yells, then smiles at the cameras flashing in our direction.
Her dainty hands wrap around my neck, and even though she offers the world her blinding smiles, she pulls on the hairs at my nape, nails digging into the skin with intention to cause pain.
I grind my teeth and she grins. “Oh, I’m sorry. Does that hurt, hon?”
“No more than how you’ll pay for this stunt, darling.”
Her eyes flare up in a bright, intoxicating, and absolutely ravenous blue. My favorite color until further notice.
“Put me down. You’re embarrassing me.”
“Not more than your attempts to embarrass yourself, Mrs. King.”
I contemplate dumping her in the passenger seat like a sack of potatoes but think better of it and deposit her caringly, like the gentleman I’m not.
But then again, the confusion in her eyes at the mixed signals is worth it.
So I slide into the driver's seat and lean over. Ava pushes back against the leather, the squeak filling the car and drowning out the outside world.
“What are you doing?” she whispers, her chest rising and falling in quick succession, her full breasts brushing my shirt with the teasing of a soft-core show.
My dick takes notice of her smaller size and how easy it’d be to conquer her.
Own her.
Once and for all.
But my brain recognizes that would be no different than shoving her back to the clusterfuck of a state she was in prior to the ‘incident.’
If anything, I shouldn’t be here, but she had to push my fucking buttons. She can’t help it.
“What do you think I’m doing, Mrs. King?”
My face is so close to hers, I feel her shallow breathing against my mouth and watch the slight tremble in her chin and the parting of her pillowy lips.