Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“Love is a blade,” I tell her without looking at her. “It cuts you the moment you relinquish control to it.” It’s an idea, a thought I’ve had for so long it feels normal to tell it to her. I’ve never mentioned it to any of the brothers. They may know me well, but there are still secrets of mine I hold close to my chest. And it’s taken a wee lassie to dig up the dirt.
“It’s sad you think so,” she tells me. “You’re afraid of it,” Miren muses with a softness to her voice.
“Nothing scares me,” I tell her, shrugging it off as if it’s nothin’, but if I had to be honest, Miren is right. The fear of loving and losing has always kept those emotions at bay.
She steps down onto the grass before slipping off her sandals and pressin’ her toes into the ground. I watch as she laughs when they sink into the wetness, and when she looks up, there’s an innocence to her I never noticed before.
The sky opens up, and the clouds that have been hangin’ overhead burst, soaking Miren. Her long, dark hair is matted to her, and the dress she’s wearing hugs every feckin’ perfect curve of her body. The softness of her has me hardening. Seein’ her nipples poke through the material has my thoughts delving into the darkness. I want to devour every inch of her.
“Ye like the rain?” I muse.
She looks over at me, and for the first time since I saw her at that mansion as the concrete and bricks crumbled to the ground, I see happiness in her eyes. There’s no stress, no pain or heartache. It’s as if the rain has washed away every worry she carries with her.
And I find myself wanting to feel it too. My feet carry me off the veranda and onto the grass. My boots squelch in the wetness as I make my way towards her. She doesn’t run. Most women would. They’d see me comin’ and cross the street so they’re on the opposite side. Far away from me. A biker who has blood on his hands.
“Close your eyes,” she tells me, and I do. Her hands cup my cheeks. Most women wouldn’t get this close to me. In the past, when I fucked, they’d be bent over, takin’ me from behind. But I allow Miren to place her hands on me.
The droplets are large, and they hit me in ways a shower couldn’t. It’s the coolness of them that makes the knots in my muscles ease. Miren doesn’t release me. When I open my eyes again, she’s staring straight at me. I shrug off my cut and wrap it around her shoulders.
When she looks at me with confusion, I say, “Don’t need the brothers in there seein’ those pretty little nipples. I don’t want any of them lookin’ at ye.”
Her blush is obvious as her cheeks turn a deep red. I take a step closer to her, our bodies flush under the rain. I reach for her arse and grip both cheeks in my hands and lift her against me. I don’t give a shite if they’re watching inside, I lean in to steal her lips.
A soft moan falls from Miren, and I swallow it back as our tongues stroke along each other. The movement sends desire rippling through me. I want to press her against a wall, to rip her dress off and claim her right here. It’s been a long time coming since she walked into my life, into my home. But I won’t do it where all can see.
“Monster,” Miren moans my name, her lips whispering along mine. “I… I don’t know—” Her voice breaks, and I capture her mouth again. I don’t want her to tell me she doesn’t want this. One more taste, just one more, and I’ll let her go. Once I pull away, I lower her to her feet and step back. The rain hasn’t stopped, it hasn’t even let up, but when she looks up at me, I don’t see guilt in her eyes. “I’m not ready for this. Not yet. Can we? Can we just talk for a while?”
Confusion settles in my chest. “Aye, of course. What did ye think? I was goin’ ta walk off and leave ye here if ye weren’t into it?”
She laughs. It’s a soft, melodic sound, and for a moment, she looks at me as if I’m strange. “No. I just know that men get angry when they’re turned down. And I’m not turning you down. I just…” She waves her hand in the air and looks away. “Need some time.”
Surprise bursts in my mind, and my mouth pops open in shock. “Listen to me, and listen good,” I say. “I’m not a feckin’ arsehole. When you’re ready for this, I’ll take ye up to that bedroom and make ye scream my feckin’ name. But until then, we will do as you wish. Talk? Aye, I can talk fer days.”