Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 111435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Hades’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, but I was standing pretty damn close to him. How was it only now that I realized how close he was standing to me? He was still holding my chin.
In his hand.
And I had just blabbered on about Bruce Willis saving the world, my eyes most likely rimmed red, face blotchy and hair a fucking mess. And he was looking at me like ... like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
My body hummed beneath his gaze, at his grip on my chin, his smell, how his body was so close to mine. It felt like his shadow was swallowing me whole.
He was still staring at me, still touching me, and I hadn’t said a word in like a minute. It was getting hard to breathe. But I didn’t move. My body became very aware of the hotness of this man and his proximity to me and how long it had been since I’d had sex. Not to mention that I’d never felt this way in a man’s presence ... ever. Terrified, turned on, and like I might melt into a puddle at any moment.
Up until right now, I’d been really sure that Hades didn’t like me. Not like that anyway. Beyond wanting to fuck me, though that did not mean he liked me. But he had been staring into my eyes for a good long while now and was still holding my chin. He smelled like man and musk, spicy, unlike any aftershave I’d smelled before. It was the smell of him. I wanted it imprinted on my skin. On my sheets. My eyes swept over him, his high cheekbones, his full lips, the veins in his neck that looked as if they were etched in stone. I had yet to find a piece of his skin, apart from most of his face, that wasn’t covered by ink. Unfortunately, his chest was obscured by the V-neck tee he was wearing, but the muscles underneath the fabric were impossible to hide. His arms were exposed today, and they were sinewy, muscled, pale perfection. I might’ve been able to look farther down had he not let go of my chin and stepped back. My body stumbled forward just a little as I leaned in to the space where he used to be.
To my relief, I caught myself before I face planted into his chest. I blinked rapidly, staring at him, watching the expression leave his face. He looked more familiar now, his face harsher, the angles of his cheekbone all the more sculpted and his gaze telling me he was totally unimpressed and pissed off by me.
My fists clenched at my sides, and I bit the inside of my lip to stop from crying all over again. I’d be able to handle this so much better if I was in full glam; looking hot while being rejected was much easier. Or it normally was. Hades cut through all the defenses I’d built up over the years. And I barely knew this guy.
Suddenly, I was pissed off. At myself for having such a reaction to a guy who had been nothing but an asshole to me. I was not that girl. It was so fucking cliché, letting the guy with the sculpted jaw and chaos in his eyes fuck me around because he looked like heaven and hell in a man.
Fuck no.
I folded my arms across my chest and struggled not to react to the way Hades’s eyes followed my gesture which made my boobs move upward since I wasn’t wearing a bra. His eyes flared ever so slightly, and that felt like a victory. It also felt like something else between my legs, but I was ignoring that.
“Why are you here?” I demanded, my voice no longer shaking with tears mourning Bruce Willis.
Hades’s eyes looked over my shoulder into my living room where the movie was paused and where Sirius was hiding underneath the blanket we’d been cuddling under prior to this.
“You need a guard dog,” he commented flatly.
I frowned at him. “You need to tell me why you’re at my house,” I countered.
His eyes went back to me. “Wanted to let you know that you’re not going to have a tail anymore. We took care of it.”
His voice was deep, menacing and like liquid caramel. I tasted it on my tongue. Or maybe I’d had more wine than I’d realized.
“Took care of it?” I parroted, stepping back instinctively.
Hades noted that, and he stepped forward, his motorcycle boots producing low thumps on my hardwood floor.
My sideboard clattered as candles and knickknacks fell over when I backed into it. Hades had stalked forward so there were mere inches between us. He wasn’t touching me this time, though. Nor was he looking at me like he had before. No. He had clocked my fear, sensed it, and had made a conscious choice to magnify it, to intimidate me, scare me in my own home.