Total pages in book: 188
Estimated words: 179812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 899(@200wpm)___ 719(@250wpm)___ 599(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 179812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 899(@200wpm)___ 719(@250wpm)___ 599(@300wpm)
Shifting on his feet, he says, “Yes, you are and it’s time you took a step back.”
“So this is for my benefit? You’re doing me a favor.”
He moves his jaw back and forth, his eyes belligerent. “Yes.”
“Why does it look like you’re dying then?” I ask because that’s the reason, isn’t it? That’s why he looks like that, all emptied out and hollow because he thinks he needs to do me a favor.
He sucks in a breath. “You need—”
“And all of this because I let you fuck me in the ass and called you Sir?” I cut him off and snap, proud of myself that I didn’t let my voice crack. I didn’t let it show how those words affected me. I know I said it in a tone that makes everything sound casual and kinky fun. But it wasn’t that. It may have been kinky, but there was nothing casual about it.
It was meeting of our souls. It was our connection finally sliding into place. I’ve always wanted a connection with him, something that I made myself, not something thrust upon us by our dysfunctional parents. But even I couldn’t have imagined something so deep. So primal and raw. Visceral.
God, does he not see how lucky we are? How fortunate to have found each other in this world of billions of people. To not only have found each other but to also stand on the verge of something so big, a world full of possibilities and an even deeper connection. A purposeful connection where we’re both each other’s safe spaces. He gets to be whoever he wants to be and I let him. Where I be his in every way possible, mind, body, heart and he takes care of me.
Making it sound cheap cuts into my soul and squeezes my heart, but I have to do it. I have to jar him and I think I have. Because it takes him a second to recover from it. He draws back and his hands in his pockets curl into fists. I can clearly see the outline of them. Then, “Yes. It was all fun and games and you—”
Coming to a halt a few feet away from him, I stab my finger at him. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare, Shepard Thorne.” He grates his jaw, but I keep going, “Say what you will but if you insult what happened between us, if you try to twist it or poison it in any way, I will fucking scratch your eyes out. It was beautiful and you know it. It was meaningful and you know that too.”
Finally, I see anger flickering through his features, hot and fuming. It makes his chest expand with a sharp breath, his jaw going back and forth before he growls, “I told you. I fucking told you. What this was supposed to be. What we were doing. I thought you understood. Jesus, fuck.” He shakes his head, finally ripping his hands out of his pockets and raking his fingers through his wet hair. I notice a tremor in them that makes my heart clench, despite my anger at him right now. Then, gripping his own hair in anger and frustration, he growls again, “How the fuck could you let this happen? How the fuck could you fall in love with me and fucking fuck everything up?”
My chest heaves. “I fell in love with you?”
His chest follows mine and shudders as well as he lowers his hand and accuses, “Yes, you did.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“You fell in love with me too.”
My words come out as an accusation as well that hit him the center of his chest. And for some reason, I’m once again reminded of that soccer ball he used to shatter my window, to break all the barriers and get to me. I can’t kick a ball around. I’m not a soccer superstar like him but I have to find a way to break this barrier between us. I have to because I don’t want to do this. I don’t want us to fight. I don’t want us to argue or accuse each other of falling in love with each other when it’s supposed to be a good thing.
When it’s the culmination of both our dreams.
“You love me too,” I whisper, my throat full of emotions and my eyes stinging.
And he flinches. His eyes flare a bit and a tremor passes through his body, making me think once again that my words hit him in the center of his being. And I can’t resist any longer. I can’t take this distance between us so I close the gap and press my body to his. He’s all still and hard but I hold on. Grabbing the sides of his t-shirt, I say, my voice still wobbly with emotion, “You don’t love her. Not anymore. You love me. You do, Shepard. You… All the things that you do. The way you get all jealous and agitated when you see another guy coming close to me. The way you take care of me, think of all the little things to make my life easier. The way you miss me. I thought you did those things because we have a connection, and we do. God, we do. But our connection is so much deeper than I thought, Shepard. And… And the fact that you want me to have your baby…”