Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 132321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
“That’s better,” I grumble, matching her pace.
She slams her palms against her door. I press my body against hers.
“You trying to outrun me, little lady death?”
“As if I could with your long, mountain man legs.” She fumbles her hand on the tap pad and the door finally clicks open.
I take my weight off of her so we don’t fall into the apartment, but move fast in case she’s thinking of slamming the door in my face.
“Are we having a lesson on primal hunter/prey kinks that I don’t know about?” she asks.
Primal. That’s how I feel. Like someone tried to touch my mate and I need to reassert my position in her life.
I advance and she steps back.
“Are you going out with Torch this weekend?”
Guilt creeps into her eyes and she takes another step away. “Nuh…not…who told you that?”
“Fuck.” I stab my fingers through my hair. “No. That’s the only acceptable answer.”
Her eyes widen and she sucks in a sharp breath. “Why would I say that?”
“You’re not going out with him.” In case she thinks this is personal against Torch, I add, “Or anyone else.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, drawing my attention to her plump tits trying to pop out of the low V of her shirt.
Focus. Answers now. Tits later.
“Says who?” she asks in a low, deadly whisper.
“Says me.”
“And who are you to me?”
Danger. Fuuuck. I stomped right into this minefield.
“Because the last time I checked,” she continues, still in that gravely pissed-off tone, “you warned me not to ‘catch feelings.’” Her lips curl into a sneer on the last word.
Man, I’ll never live that one down, will I?
“And, you keep reminding me this is temporary.” She points to the kitchen. “Remember when you told me I should find someone shorter if I wanted to try counter sex again?”
I wince. I did say that, didn’t I? I really am a dick.
“And now you have the audacity to come in here like some snarling beast, mad at me because someone else asked me out?” she shouts. “Are you kidding?”
“We also said we weren’t going to fuck other people,” I remind her. “While classes are in session.”
“Who said I wanted to fuck anyone!” she yells, jabbing her finger in the air toward my face. “It’s a date. What fucked-up world do you live in that a simple date automatically equals sex?”
I’ve never heard Margot drop so many fucks at once. It’s fucking hot. I grab her wrists and drive her against the wall, pinning her next to her closet door.
Her eyes widen and she glares up at me. “Let go of me!”
I release her wrists but keep her pinned with my body. “I don’t want you to go out with him.”
“Why?” she demands.
Breathing hard, I stare down into her defiant eyes but can’t force out the reason.
“You said you don’t have relationships. You don’t want a girlfriend or an ol’ lady.” She draws out the word in a mocking tone. “So why do you care who I non-sexually date?”
I snort and take a step back. “Does he know it’s non-sexual?” Something worse occurs to me. “How long do you think it will stay non-sexual? Wasn’t that the whole point of what we’re doing?”
“Yes. You’ve been a fantastic tutor.” Her voice drops to a kitten-like purr that irritates the ever-loving shit out of me for reasons I don’t want to examine. “Maybe I’m ready to test my new skills with someone else.”
“The fuck you are.”
“Why? What else could you possibly have left to teach me?”
My jaw clenches. Whip-fast, I grab her ponytail and wrap it around my fist, tilting her head back. “You still need to learn what happens to bratty little girls who misbehave.”
Her eyes flare with indignation, but her lips twitch with amusement. “Oh, really?”
“Tell him no,” I demand.
She flashes a wicked grin. “Or what?”
“Break the date, Margot.”
“Why? You haven’t given me a good enough reason.”
“You need a reason?”
“A good one.”
She’s infuriating and fuck it; I want her so much. “You’re mine.”
“I’m your what?”
“Mine,” I growl, slamming my lips over hers to stop her from making me say it.
She hooks one arm around my neck. I release her hair and slide my hands down, lifting her and pressing her against the wall.
“What am I to you?” she whispers, pressing her hand to my chest in an attempt to hold me back. “Tell me.”
“I told you. You’re mine.”
“What does that mean?” she insists.
I blow out an annoyed breath. “You need a title? My woman. My girlfriend.”
“You want me to be your girlfriend?”
“Why is that so hard to believe?”
“Because you told me, rather explicitly, that you don’t have relationships.”
“Well, now I want to.”
“Why?”
“Why what?” I said it. What more does she want from me?
“Why do you want me to be your girlfriend? Because someone else asked me out?”
“No. I like you. Every little fucking thing about you. Your sense of humor, and all the quirky challenges that come out of your mouth. I like the way you care so much about what you do. How you try to protect and honor dead people you didn’t even know in life.”