Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“He said he wouldn’t hurt you again…”
“That sounds like good news to me.”
“Yeah…but I had to beg.”
I’d love to have seen that, see her beg for me.
“He’s disappointed in me. He’s angry. But…at least it’s over.”
“It’ll get better. Give it time.”
She averted her gaze again.
“Baby.”
She turned back to me, knowing I would force her if she didn’t.
“Something else you aren’t telling me?”
Her eyes shifted back and forth as she looked into mine, taking a long time to answer. “No. It was just a lot of arguing… It was exhausting. I don’t really want to talk about it anymore.”
“Alright.” My hand slid to her neck, my fingers wrapping around her slender throat. “Hungry? I can make you something to eat?”
“I should be making you something to eat,” she said with a light chuckle.
“Come on, I’m not that weak anymore.” I dropped my hand from her neck and opened the fridge. “Balto brought this over. Cassini made it.” I placed it on the counter and pulled off the lid. “Not as good as what you make me, but it’s good enough.”
She looked into the pan, seeing slices of chicken breast with wine sauce and mushrooms on a bed of fettuccine. She constantly controlled the calories that she pushed into her mouth, so she was always hungry, and when her eyes narrowed slightly on the pan, it was obvious she was hungry now. “Ugh, that looks way better than anything I make.”
I grabbed a plate and shoveled the food onto the dish. “I disagree.”
She gave me an incredulous look. “The best thing I can make is mac and cheese.”
I put it in the microwave and leaned against the counter as I waited for it to be ready. “And it’s damn good mac and cheese.”
She rolled her eyes but did it playfully. “You’re just saying that.”
“When a woman cooks for a man, it’s innately sexual, innately possessive. I will never like a woman’s cooking more than yours, even if it is better, because you’re my woman and she’s not. So yes, I’d rather have your mac and cheese than eat someone else’s Wagyu steak, alright?”
A soft smile came over her face. “That makes sense, actually.”
The microwave beeped, and I pulled the dish out and set it on the counter. It was steaming hot, still fresh because Cassini must have made it earlier that afternoon. I placed a fork on top then watched her.
She spun the fork in her noodles. “You’re just going to watch me?”
“I watch you all the time.” I leaned against the counter, ignoring the pain of my ribs, the burn in my aching muscles. I missed being myself, standing tall, making jokes…just being me. And I liked that she was more herself again, finally dropping her guilt and relaxing around me. She always had her wall up, as if she didn’t deserve to be with me after what she did. She did some bad things…I did some bad things. We were even as far as I was concerned.
“True.” She took a bite, chewing the fettuccine, one cheek popping out because it was a lot for her small mouth.
I loved watching her no matter what she did, because she made everything sexy, even brushing her teeth. And anytime something was in her mouth, I imagined my dick replacing the object, and then it turned into a porno in my mind.
She continued to eat, taking breaks and drinking her wine. “You should sit down. You shouldn’t be on your feet so much.”
“I’m tired of sitting.”
“I don’t care what you’re tired of.” She turned bossy, flashing me her irritated look. “And it’s late. You should be in bed.”
“Ooh…I like it when you boss me around.” No one else could do it, especially not as good as she could.
“Then why don’t you listen?”
I shrugged. “Because then you keep doing it.”
She grabbed her fork again. “You sound like a child.”
“That’s funny. Cassini says the same thing.”
She raised her arm to slap me playfully but quickly lowered her hand when she stopped herself. “Just get in bed, alright?”
“Will you join me?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Wasn’t sure if your conversation with Damien changed anything.”
She turned back to her food. “No.”
I had a hunch that she was lying, but I let it go. “Alright.” I moved into her side and wrapped my arm around her waist, my face moving into her hairline. She smelled the way I remembered, like a beautiful summer day—fresh-cut grass, new flowers, sunshine. I kissed her skin, savoring the touch of her against me, treasuring this moment, because just weeks ago, I thought I would never see her again.
She stilled at my touch, affected by my kiss the way I was, like it brought her to life in the exact same way. She stopped eating, even stopped breathing. She subtly turned her cheek my way.
I pulled away and looked down into her face, seeing the single most beautiful woman in the world, the woman I would lay down my life for in a heartbeat, the woman I would sacrifice everything for…because there was nothing more important.