Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96752 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96752 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“You should run because I’ll take everything from you,” he promises.
But it feels more like a plea to my ears. One I can’t deny. I go on my toes and press my lips to his, and that seems to be all he needs. He takes over, hand tightening in my hair as his tongue plunges in. Like he needs to make sure I don’t run despite all his advice. Like he can’t stand the thought of me walking away.
I have no intentions of leaving him. I can take some damage. If you asked me a month ago how I would handle a man who said the things to me Reid did tonight, I would have said I would leave. I would walk out because no one is going to treat me like that.
He’s more important than my pride. Lydia is right and Darnell is, too. I’ve been trying so hard to avoid living my mother’s life that I forgot to define what I want for my own. Something beyond working and keeping my head above water. I want this. I want to love someone, to go through life with these people who fill my soul. With people I can’t leave alone to face the storms inside them.
“Take off your clothes.” He steps back, dragging his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. Again he looks at me like he’s sure I’ll walk.
I would have seen it as arrogance once, but I know him better now. It’s not bravado or anger. It’s fear. In some ways he’s accepted that he’ll have to do everything alone and so he would rather get it over with. The me walking out part. From what I can tell, the woman he’s spent the most time with is a blackmailing asshole, so I have some walls to get around.
I pull my T-shirt over my head, and it joins his along with my bra. I kick out of my boots and make quick work of my jeans and stand in front of him completely naked.
“Just like that?” He asks the question with one raised brow.
But I think I’m starting to understand his secret language. One day he won’t need the arrogant tone. One day he’ll feel safe with me. What he’s asking is if he can trust this. If he can expect me to turn on him. There’s only one way to show him. Don’t leave. “Just like that.”
He forgets how often in a day he does nice things for me. He brings me coffee every morning and makes sure I have a sweater. If I forget one and get cold because I’m working in a part of the house that isn’t heated, he wraps me up in his and kisses me on the nose and tells me to stay warm. When I get involved in a job and forget lunch he shows up and sits and eats with me.
So no, it’s not just like that. What I’m doing is the culmination of weeks of tenderness from him.
“Sit on the couch, Reid.”
His eyes flare, likely because he realizes what I want to do to him. He pulls the belt from his slacks and undoes his fly before lowering himself to the leather Chesterfield. Yep. I know a little about furniture now because my boyfriend is obsessed with making things pretty.
Because design was the one thing he could control. When everything in his childhood seemed unruly and chaotic, he could make his space comfortable and safe.
He’s about to find comfort in more than expensive furnishings.
I lower myself between his legs, my knees cushioned by the soft carpet beneath us. I look up and his face is all planes and angles in the moonlight, his emotions stark.
“Harper, I want to tell you to leave. I should. I should force you out, but I want you.” He shoves his slacks down enough to free his cock.
I reach for it, sliding my hand over soft skin and hard flesh. “My point is you can’t force me out. Or maybe you can shove me away, but you can’t make me not worry about you. You can’t make me not care.”
Before he can reply, I lower my head down and give his big cock a long lick, and he doesn’t seem to feel the need to talk anymore. He groans and his hands find my hair, though he’s gentle now. He strokes my hair even as I suck and kiss and lick. I love the way he tastes, the way he feels under my tongue. The way his thighs tense and his eyes get hot. I watch him while I work my way down his dick, lavishing it with affection.
“I could take this and then throw you out,” he says even as his breathing picks up. “I could show you who I am.”