Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81581 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81581 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
He starts kissing me feverishly once again until his phone rings. A growl escapes him. “That’s Gwen’s ring tone.”
I miss his body pressed against mine the moment he pulls away. His body is all lean defined muscles hiding beneath tattooed and scarred flesh. He’s beautiful—like God created a special masterpiece and named it Gray. But Gray is far from boring, he’s colorful and bright and charming.
“Fuuuuck,” he hisses into the phone. “I’ll be right there.”
“What is it?” I demand when he tosses the phone onto the bed and begins rapidly throwing clothes on.
Sadness flashes in his eyes. “Mom. She fell. The paramedics won’t come into the house anymore so if she gets hurt or falls, Gwen or I have to help her.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “I’ll be back when I can.”
I jolt from the bed and hurry to my dresser to hunt for some panties. “I’m coming with you.”
He stalks over to me and hugs me from behind. His slacks are back on but he’s still bare chested. The warmth radiating from him calls to me. Sings to quiet parts deep within me.
“Baby,” he coos against my hair. “She’s worse than Gwen. You need to stay.”
I twist in his grip to face him. My palms find his stubbly cheeks and I shake my head at him. “Not a chance. I was being inconsiderate of your family’s illness before. But now…” I trail off and stand on my toes to kiss his lips. “I want to help. You’ve listened to me unload my past on you. This is the least I can do.”
Emotion shines in his eyes. “Really?”
“Really,” I assure him with a smile. “Let’s go help your mom.”
I’m still seething with rage as we drive to Mom’s. The things that Vaughn did to her…sick. The things I’m going to do to him…sicker. From the passenger seat, Violet nervously chews on her nail. She’s similar to me in the way that she is neat and orderly. Because of her past, she’s been driven to keep her life organized just so. I hate having to take her to Mom’s but she seems so willing to help.
It fucking moves me.
I knew Friday when I locked eyes with her that I’d sentenced us to death. After a lifetime of love of course. But she’d be mine until the end. A crooked piece inside of me seemed to straighten the moment she became the main fixture in my life.
I’m trying desperately not to move too fast. The last thing I want to do is scare her away. But keeping my shiny little Violet on her pedestal in front of me is where she belongs. I want to cherish her forever.
I reach over and grab her thigh through her jeans. Her palm covers the back of my hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. This woman is the filling for the void that’s sat inside my chest for as long as I can remember. My life feels complete now. I’m going to work myself so far into her heart, she’ll never want me to leave.
As we drive, I can’t help but feel disappointed about earlier when she wanted to use a condom. Doesn’t she know I want to put my seed inside of her? That I want her pregnant with my child? I’d suggest we marry tomorrow if I didn’t think she’d send me packing. Violet is like an abused puppy. It will take time to gain her trust. I want to cuddle the fuck out of her and put a collar around her throat that says she belongs to me.
“What are you thinking about?” she questions, her thumb stroking across the back of my hand.
How crazy you make me.
How my heart beats only for you.
How my brain won’t let your face leave its presence.
How I’m going to blurt out that I love you long before the socially acceptable time because the internal raging fires that burn for you are out of fucking control.
“How beautiful you are,” I tell her with a smile.
She laughs. “Somehow I feel there’s more, but I’ll let it slide since you’re so sweet.”
She has no idea just how much more…
“We’re here,” I tell her, my smile fading as anxiety sets in as I park next to my sister’s Camaro.
“This is a nice home,” she murmurs.
It’s more than nice on the outside. My childhood home sits at the end of the street in an expensive neighborhood. The homes in the area sell in the millions.
The neatly manicured lawn and fresh paint job hide the horrific secrets that lie inside. The chaos and disorder. The absolute madness. The hired lawn people on call help keep up pretenses.
“Do you want to sit in the car?” I question.
She’s already climbing out. “No. I can handle this. Your mom needs you.”
I scrub my face with my palm and inhale a fortifying breath. This is going to be difficult. Last time I came by was when one of Mom’s shelves fell on her. My skin still crawls from having to pull all that shit off of her.