Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
As I prepare a morning feast for us and run some errands so everything’s ready when he wakes up, I can’t get over what a good fit we are. Not only do sparks fly whenever we flirt, but we share a morbid sense of humor, and we both need to be loved. Between the lines, I read his relationship with his brother isn’t as rosy as he tries to portray it.
They text often? Blake sees him every few weeks? Blake is eighteen, so it means he’s been neglected, left to his own devices, and without much access to people his own age. And then after all that, his brother just pushes him out of the nest and into the sharp-toothed wolf jaws of men who would gladly leave the imprints of their teeth all over his pale body? It’s such a good thing I found him and can take care of him from now on.
I’m arranging our food on the wooden tray when a soft grunt reaches my ears from the room next door, followed by a rustle of sheets. Ha. My guest is up and running. Well, he will be once I take the cuffs off, but that’s a minor detail.
I use my phone to start playing instrumental Christmas music in the bedroom, and then place a single poinsettia flower into the miniature vase in the middle of the breakfast spread. Happy with my work, I stroll next door, already excited to see Blake’s pretty face again.
“Good morning,” I say, popping my head through the open door. He lies prone with his head tucked deep into the soft pillow and the covers tangled around his legs, as if he’s spent the past few minutes of sleep tossing and turning. With his hands up and cuffed to the headboard, he’s like a gift wrapped especially for me, but I don’t want to distress him and remove the shackles as soon as I place the tray over his lap.
His thick, dark brows lower over green eyes, which watch me intently as Blake swallows. “Hello, Nico.”
“Good morning. You look so sleepy. It’s adorable. I hope you’re hungry? I got us coffee from the place next door too.” I sit on the bed right next to him as he rubs his wrists.
He’s still in the festive onesie I got him as pajamas and I imagine we could wear matching ones on Christmas day. Today, I settled for simple jeans and a T-shirt. It’s white, with a print stating ‘Nice until proven Naughty’.
There’s fresh pastries, a selection of sandwiches on the tray, and even some fruit, if he’s up for it first thing in the morning. I’m rather proud of myself.
He goes straight for the coffee I poured into my best mug and watches me from behind it. His eyes are puffy, his curly hair in disarray, and if I could have my way, I’d be kissing his neck already. But I’m not about cheap hookups with the person whose voice I’ve fantasized about for a long time, the person who got to know the real me, so I remain patient and help myself to a croissant with pistachio cream.
“I didn’t even notice you leaving,” Blake says and puts down the coffee to follow my example.
“You sleep like a baby. I’m usually well-rested after just a few hours. Which is very convenient when I need to run a shop, stay ripped, and plan my kills.” I slurp some coffee and then bite into the pastry. It’s flaky, but soft inside, with homemade cream. I move it to Blake’s mouth and urge him to take a bite now that I know it’s perfect.
He’s about to sink his teeth into a bear claw, but when I move my own pastry close to his face, his gaze drifts to it before meeting mine. A jolt of pleasure spears through my body, but I remain still and only bite the inside of my cheek when he leans in and tries what I’m offering. His lashes flutter, and he hums, nodding. “Those are very good!”
I’m so happy that he’s pleased I fist-pump. “And I have so much planned for us today. I got you new clothes, hopefully your size, because you seemed not as eager to show off your Christmas spirit all the time. My employee’s been encouraging me to take a day off for a long time, and I always worry that I need to be at the shop, but you know what? He’s right. Fuck it. I need to live a little, and with you here, it just makes sense.”
“So we’re going out to find the guy who’s after me?” Blake asks and hurriedly takes a sip of coffee, as if he’s ready to stuff the rest of the pastry in his mouth and bolt out of bed.