Total pages in book: 216
Estimated words: 206530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 826(@250wpm)___ 688(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 206530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 826(@250wpm)___ 688(@300wpm)
“She sounds wonderful. Do you see her often?”
“No,” he barks out. Then, slightly gentler though I can see he’s still agitated. “I never want her to have to look at me and be reminded of what she left behind here.” He drags a hand through his hair. “People say I look exactly like my father.”
“Oh Dylan.” I move forward and reach out for him, unable to go another moment without touching him.
But he jerks back, looking at me incredulously.
“What’s wrong with you? I just told you that my father raped my sister for years!” he shouts. “That I didn’t fucking see it. That I didn’t fucking save her. And even after that day, knowing what I know. It doesn’t stop me from—” He gestures at the bed. “I still want it like—” He breaks off and his mouth goes into a tight line.
“So you like rough sex. I do, too.” I toss my hands in the air. “It doesn’t mean you’re like your father.”
“We both know it’s more than rough sex.” His eyes cut to mine. “I want to hurt you. I want to violate you. I want to hurt you the same way I grew up watching him hurt my mother.” He turns away again and his back heaves. “The same way he was hurting my baby fucking sister.”
“No,” I say firmly. “It wasn’t your fault, Dylan. Your father was evil. But you aren’t him. You got your sister out.”
“Years too late!” he shouts again and I can’t help flinching back. He sees it and there’s remorse in his eyes. But then he hardens himself again. Like he thinks it’s good if he scares me away.
Oh Dylan.
He doesn’t know it, but I’ve looked into the face of evil, and he’s not it. How many years has he torn himself up about failing to help his sister sooner? Real evil feels no remorse. It has no empathy, or love, or compassion.
Real evil is Bryce Gentry, laughing with his friends after they all fucked me till I bled, leaving me broken on the floor.
Dylan Lennox is not evil.
He told me this story tonight to try to push me away but it’s only done the opposite. I see him so much more clearly now. I see the little boy growing up in that horrible, violent household. I think about how scared he must have been but still he tried to be a good big brother, shielding his brother and sister as best he could.
His whole life he grew up in that role—the protector. And then to find out his sister had been hurt so terribly, of course it would feel like failure to him at the deepest level. To him, he’d failed at his most basic job, the one he’d been doing since he was a child.
I wrap my arms around him from behind and though he flinches, he doesn’t pull away.
“Miranda—” he starts but I cut him off.
“Shhhhh.”
His shoulders slump and I press the side of my face to his spine. He’s carried this burden for so long. So many years the guilt has weighed him down. Guilt for someone else’s sins.
“Come with me.”
I reach around and take his hand. It’s limp in mine but when I tug, he follows.
He pauses on the threshold of the bathroom, though.
“Miranda, you should tell me to go.”
I just shake my head and pull him into the bathroom with me. I start running the bath and then turn back to him, tugging his shirt up and off over his head. I have to go up on my tiptoes, he’s so tall, but I finally get it off.
He watches me silently as I pull his boxer briefs down and then take off my own shirt and underwear.
I don’t miss the way his cock stiffens and I raise an eyebrow and just shake my head. I have no idea how he’s always so ready to go. I swear his cock defies nature.
But right now isn’t about sex. I take his hand and draw him toward the bath. He steps in and sits down. I get in, too, settling down in the tub behind him, his body between my legs in a reverse position of the last time we took a bath together.
I wrap my arms around him from behind and urge him to lay his head back against my breasts. As I turn on the jets, I feel the tension leave his body.
That’s right, baby. Give it all up to me.
“Close your eyes,” I murmur.
I look over his shoulder and see that he’s obeyed. Then I reach for the large plastic cup I keep on the corner lip of the tub and fill it up, then pour the water over his head. It streams down his face and his mouth opens as he gasps in surprise.
“Sorry, should have warned you.”