Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
His kiss grows wilder, hungrier…more desperate and I meet him at every step, needing this just as badly as he does. Since the second he told me we were done, I have craved this, I’ve needed it so damn bad that at times it was hard to breathe. He’s my guy, through and through and finally, there’s absolutely no doubt between us.
All this time I had him wrong, so fucking wrong. It seems that Slade Cruz is capable of absolutely anything and I’m so proud to call him mine.
Where the hell would I be had Blake and I not made it to Aston Creek? To think that I could still be living under Lucien’s roof as his prisoner, as a victim and not a survivor…damn. I don’t even want to think about that and it’s all because of Slade. He gave me a life to look forward to here. Blake and I might have been the ones to run, but Slade was the one who handed me a future.
Slade’s hand runs down my arm and I know they say pain is pleasure, but sometimes they’re just fucking wrong. Sometimes pain is just pain. I suck in a sharp breath as his touch stings Rachel’s claw marks on my arm.
“Fuck, babe,” he says, jumping back from me. “I forgot.”
“It’s fine,” I say, missing his touch and reaching for him again.
Slade shakes his head and takes my hand before leading me into the kitchen. “It’s not fine,” he tells me. “The whole point of skipping school was to come here and clean you up, not get nasty in the doorway.”
“Technically, we were inside of the doorway.”
I don’t see him but I know he’s rolling his eyes. We reach the kitchen counter and he grabs hold of my waist and lifts me onto it as his eyes zone in on mine. “Don’t move,” he warns, pointing a finger at me as though I’m some sort of flight risk.
He turns toward the kitchen cupboard to where we keep our first aid supplies and I salute his back. “Yes, sir.”
Slade comes striding back to me with our first aid box that seems to have tripled in size since Blake and I first moved in. He places the box down beside me and then scans his eyes up and down my body. “Hmm,” he says, fighting to control a wicked grin. “You’re going to have to lose your shirt.”
“Really, now?” I question, raising a suspicious brow.
“Definitely,” he confirms. “You can’t expect me to do a good job if I can’t see what I’m working with.”
I can’t help but smile at the devil as I slowly raise my arms, letting him take care of business. His tongue runs over his bottom lip as hunger appears deep in his eyes. Cool fingers curl around the hem of my shirt, tickling my ribs as it’s drawn up my skin.
My shirt is tossed onto the counter and just when I think Slade is going to give in and give me exactly what he wants, his face scrunches up with a cringe. “Damn, Virago. She got you good.”
“Huh?” I demand, dropping my eyes to my body to find a soft bruising starting to spread over my ribs and a few too many nail scratches. Though, most of them are just red, nothing that’s actually broken the skin. “Damn. I bet she looks worse.”
“Fuck, yeah. Is it wrong to say that watching you like that had me hard?”
I shake my head, remembering all the times I’ve watched him in action and how desperate it had me to slam him up against a wall and screw his brains out. “Nope. Trust me, I completely get it.”
He laughs and despite how badly I want this fun to continue, after seeing the extent of my injuries, Slade now has other priorities. He digs into the first aid kit and starts pulling all sorts of shit out. He grabs a packet of frozen peas from the freezer and demands I put it over my knuckles then starts rubbing cream into the scratches on my arm.
He works in silence while I try my best not to maul him as every touch of my skin has my body burning with need. The longer it takes, the further his brows drop. At first, I figured he was concentrating on doing a good job, but now he looks more as though he’s deep in thought.
“What’s up?” I finally ask, taking his chin between my fingers and lifting his gaze to mine.
He pulls away and keeps trying to work. “Don’t worry about it, babe. I want to finish this. I don’t like seeing you hurting.”
“It can wait a few minutes,” I insist, forcing his eyes back to mine once again. “What’s bothering you?”
Slade’s lips pull into a tight line and after a beat, he finally resigns. “I’m not really sure that I should be bringing it up.”