Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
"Where did that come from?" she asked, voice a little dreamy. It matched the look in her eyes.
"Just realized that I've been meaning to say it for a long time," I told her, sliding carefully out of her. "I've never been good at saying shit like that," I admitted.
"You show it really well, though," she said, turning, giving me a soft smile. "And most of the time, that is enough. But it is nice hearing it, too," she admitted as I tossed the condom before reaching for her again, pulling her in for a kiss.
"If it makes you look the way you're looking at me right now more often, I will say it as much as I can," I told her.
"I mean, that look might have something to do with the orgasms too," she admitted with a smile.
"Luckily, I never intend to stop giving you those either," I told her, sealing my lips to hers again.
It was a big deal to me. Loving someone. Telling them I loved them. But it hadn't been as difficult as I thought it would be. Hell, it ended up being as easy to say it as it had been to feel it.
Shy - 12 months
"He didn't tell you where we are going?" Belle asked, immediately suspicious.
See, Belle loved McCoy.
But having fully thrown herself into intensive self-defense training in multiple different styles while working with women at the local shelter, well, it had turned her more than a bit cynical and suspicious of any and all men.
They all tell me the same thing, she told me one afternoon over lunch. He was the man you least expected to beat or rape you. So much so that no one ever believes them when they speak up.
"Easy, Killer," I said, giving her a smile as she picked up her gym bag. "If he was planning on murdering and dismembering me, I doubt he would have had me inviting you along with me with all your ass-kicking skills," I finished as I followed her into the locker room at her favorite gym.
When I say Belle had thrown herself into training, I meant that for eleven months straight, she was at the gym at least six hours a day.
It had changed and shaped her in so many ways, both mentally and physically.
She'd gotten leaner and stronger with the outlines of abdominal muscles that made me the slightest bit envious. But only for a little bit, until I remembered my soft tummy was thanks to all the good eating I'd been doing at the Henchmen clubhouse thanks, almost entirely, to Eddie.
Emotionally, she was stronger as well. She'd gained the kind of confidence I only could have ever dreamed of for her. She wasn't the shy, unsure girl she'd once been. She was louder and comfortable with asserting her opinions and desires.
The girl I'd known who could barely look men in the eye now stared them down and damn near told them Oh, I wish you would, motherfucker.
It had been a strange adjustment period for me and for our relationship as she found herself, but once I got to know the new version of her, got to understand her motivations, and watch her passion grow for what she was doing, we had found our way back to the closeness we'd always known. Even if what we did and what we talked about was different than it used to be.
That was all part of growing up, wasn't it?
Pretty much anytime I wanted to see her, I had to come and drag her out of her gym. It wasn't my favorite place in the world. I mean, we've established that I had never been a workout kind of girl to begin with. But normal gyms intimidated me. And this was not a normal gym. It was for heavy lifting and rope climbing and tire flipping and actual hand-to-hand sparring.
So it went without mentioning that Belle was one of the few women that frequented the place.
They actually hadn't even had a women's locker room until Belle had pitched a fit about it after she'd been there for a few months.
The owner, a really hot guy in his late thirties with a sexy smattering of gray in his dark hair, had taken the criticism and converted one of the back storage rooms into a women's locker room. Was it the size of a shoebox that somehow managed to fit a set of lockers, a sink, and a minuscule shower in it? Yes. But it was the thought and action that counted. And Belle was over the moon about it. She actually decorated her locker.
"Well, that's true," she agreed, squeezing some water into her mouth before tucking the bottle away in her bag as she reached for some fresh clothes. "Is it an anniversary thing?" she asked.