Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
That surprises a snort out of me. “If you came out of yesterday not sore, you wouldn’t be human.”
He leans a hip against the counter next to me. A little too close to be strictly professional, but not close enough to see it as an invitation. He’s wearing those gray sweatpants again, and his big cock is a clear imprint against the front. Fuck, those things should be illegal.
“Beast.” He says my name slowly, amusement flickering to life in his tone. “Are you checking out my dick?”
No point in denying it. If I want him to come to terms with us wanting each other, playing coy is the wrong call. “Yeah.”
“Funny fuck, aren’t you?” He takes another sip of coffee, watching me over the rim of his cup.
I lean back against the counter. “Don’t think I’m going to forget the raincheck from last night.”
“Hmmm.” He doesn’t look away, though a faint blush darkens his cheeks. Finally, Gaeton says, “Why is Isabelle in a huff?”
Part of me wants to ignore his changing the subject, but I’ve learned to be a patient hunter over the years. I don’t have weeks to play this out, but I do have a little time. It’d be foolish not to utilize it. “She needs clothes. If we send for ones she already owns, Cordelia will figure out where we are and retrieve her.”
Gaeton grins. “You called Tink.”
“I called Tink.”
He stretches, his fingertips brushing the ceiling. The move puts his entire body on display, and I allow myself to enjoy the show. Gaeton snorts. “Guess I’ll get dressed, too. Tink and Hook might appreciate the sweatpants, but it hardly sends the right message.”
I nod. “They’ll be here in an hour.”
Gaeton rumbles out a laugh. “You only gave Isabelle an hour’s notice? No wonder she’s pissed.” He fills his coffee cup back to the brim. “We doing this tonight?”
“I don’t think it’s wise to wait. It’s a Band-Aid, but it might make Ursa back off long enough for us to figure things out and return to the territory.” Even that might not be enough to divert her at this point, but I don’t think she’s hungry enough to try for a full-scale war. I could be wrong. I’ve been wrong before, and people I cared about paid the cost.
I won’t let it happen again.
Gaeton stares at his bedroom door. “Think it’s a mistake to plan this without talking to Isabelle first?”
My first instinct is to say no. We’re the generals, we’re the ones trained in what is essentially urban warfare. Orsino got his hands dirty right there with us until he was too sick to do so. He always kept his younger two daughters out of it, but Cordelia and her wife were there the last couple years, working on earning the trust of the people they command without Orsino overlooking everything. Sienna is dangerous in her own way. But Isabelle has always, always been kept away from the darker parts of what it means to be the Man in Black’s daughter. I want to keep her shielded from it now.
But he’s right. Trying to protect Isabelle Belmonte is what got us into this situation to begin with. If we’d both been honest when we started dating her, if one of us had slowed down long enough to realize that our hatred for each other felt a whole lot like stifled lust… The list goes on.
I finally nod. “We should talk to her.”
“Ha.” Gaeton slaps my shoulder. “So you can see reason.”
He has no fucking idea.
Chapter 17
Isabelle
I’m a disaster. A shower helps clear my head, but Gaeton’s not set up for anyone but him. And Gaeton does not use makeup, hair products, or own so much as a hairbrush. I’m left to finger comb my wet hair and braid it back from my face. I don’t know that I’ll be able to get it out of this braid without a vat of conditioner, but it’ll do for now.
It’s not until I’m finally finished that I realize my next hurdle. “I have no clothes.”
Beast looks up from his phone, frowning at me like I’ve just said something obvious. “That’s the point.”
Gods save me from dominant men. I speak slowly because the urge to yell is almost overpowering. “I have no clothes, Beast. People are showing up in fewer than ten minutes and I’m naked.”
Gaeton walks out of the bedroom dressed to the nines in a black suit and a button-down shirt in a deep blue that’s almost the same color as Beast’s eyes. I wonder if that was on purpose. Beast is wearing his normal uniform of dark jeans and a plain T-shirt; today it’s black. I wish I’d grabbed the shirt of Gaeton’s that I wore to sleep in. Standing here naked is not an option, no matter how cavalier these two are acting.