Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 108988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
How could he stand there, having done all the things he’d done over the years, the dead bodies that he laid at my feet, tricking me at times, and now he stood on some moral podium? “This was your chance, Eight.”
He said, deadpan, “I need to be a better man to be with you, and here I am, being that man, but it’s not what you want right now. Bit of a hypocrite, aren’t you?”
I felt slapped.
A low simmer had already started in me. The heat cranked up, and my blood began to boil over. “You—”
“We have never talked about the option of you and me as in you and me. As in an us. Isn’t that what you like to do? Talk about feelings? You didn’t want to talk about it the other night. And tonight, we skipped right over that, and you’re not even realizing that.”
I blanched, because he was right. What did that mean?
My head was swimming again, getting all confused. I liked either wanting him or being mad at him because then I knew what I wanted. I knew what I felt. But this, it was making everything all cloudy again.
I whispered, “Eight.”
“We’ve been doing this dance all our lives. You and me. It’s always been you and me. My role keeps changing for you. Not your brother. Not your father. But I’m in your life. Provider.” He laughed, a bitterness there. “If you let me. Protector. If you let me.”
“You have no parameters.” What was he doing here? Where was he going with this?
He suddenly stalked over to me. “I have parameters.”
What was he doing?
I began backing up until I hit the wall.
And he was right there, in front of me, leaning over me. I could feel his heat from his body. His breath coated me, and I tried to suppress a shiver. It didn’t work. He saw it, and he lowered his head even more.
He was so close.
The yearning was building again, taking me over.
I wanted to reach out to him. Take hold of his shirt, pull him to me, close the distance. There was hardly any air separating us, and then he closed the distance even more, bracing his hands on either side of my head. I was pinned in place.
My heart was thumping loudly, demanding his touch.
He watched me, his eyes so dark again. He spoke, his tone hollow, “I met a little girl when she was eight years old, and suddenly I understood the world. You gave me the world. You gave me everything. I use the parameters that you gave me. Don’t you remember, Blake? No one good. No one innocent. Everyone else, fair game. You said those words to me. I’ve been living by those parameters for the last fourteen years.” His head dipped down to my neck. I shivered, feeling his lips grazing over my skin. He was touching me. He was fanning the flames, but he wasn’t doing anything to extinguish the fire. He was here. He was in my space, but he was masking everything else. I didn’t like being able to read him. I couldn’t see his face, so I slid a hand up his neck. He went rigid at my touch. My fingers went up to the back of his head and took a fistful of his hair. I wanted to yank his head back, but he closed all the distance between us. His entire body plastered against mine, and he trailed his hand down my sides, to my legs, and he hoisted one up so it wound around his waist.
I moaned, closing my eyes. My fingers slacked on his hair.
He ground into me.
Pleasure coursed through me. That felt so good. He felt so good.
My hand began trembling. I was losing the fight in me.
I wanted to feel his skin. I wanted to feel him inside of me, moving, sliding in and out—
Then he said, quietly, still against my neck. “You ran from me, and I stayed away. I have stayed away—”
Cold reality hit me, dampening my desire. I remembered why I ran. “I ran because of you. I left because of who you are and what you did to the last guy who tried to date me.”
Goddammit. I needed to see his face, and I tightened my hold on his hair again. I tried tugging his head back, but he wouldn’t move. He trailed his other hand down my back, from my shoulder, down my side, and wound around my waist.
I gritted my teeth. This was so typical of him.
With Creighton, he would always push for power. He’d always try to unbalance the balance because that’s who he was.
Right?
Or was I wrong?
I looked away because my head was starting to hurt and I was getting confused all over again.
Maybe I was sobering up.
I needed to be away from him, as far as possible. I was tired of playing these games with him, and I shoved him back. He went, easily. My chest seized at that, too, because he wouldn’t give me anything I wanted tonight, but he would give me space?