Total pages in book: 202
Estimated words: 193561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 968(@200wpm)___ 774(@250wpm)___ 645(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 968(@200wpm)___ 774(@250wpm)___ 645(@300wpm)
I Dreamed A Dream from Les Misérables.
I’ve never seen the play, though I have seen the movie with Anne Hathaway. I found an old suitcase record player while I was playing in the junkyard when I was a child. A record from 1990 was still in it. I dragged it inside after Malachi swiped some black electrical tape from Father’s workshop and taped the cord for me. It worked! I played it over and over, singing that song until I could hit all the notes the voice on the record hit.
Greyson’s grip on me tightens as I sing, and after a few lines, he pulls back enough that I know he doesn’t want my face buried in his throat, so I stop singing.
This was stupid. A song? What would this strong, powerful alpha want with a silly song?
“Keep singing,” he requests softly, all the anger gone from his face, softness there instead.
And now I’m beyond self-conscious, because he’s watching me sing. But I manage to keep going, seeing that in fact… this has helped. He’s watching me with a different look on his face now, with a much nicer feeling in my chest in Greyson’s place.
When I get to the section where my voice has to climb multiple times, he does a slow blink and his lips part in what looks like surprise.
I stop abruptly before the last few lines of the song. “I don’t sing that last bit," I whisper. "Because I don’t like sad endings.” I moisten my lips and shrug.
“Blossom,” he rasps, “That was fuckin’ beautiful. Where’d you learn to sing like that?”
I feel bashful, but manage to find my voice again. “I found a record player with the soundtrack to that musical when I was a kid. Played it over and over. Didn't have any other records." I shrug. "There were some scratches, but none during that song. I sing it when babies cry with colic or hunger, or when old people are sick. It seemed to comfort them, so…” I shrug.
“A sad fucking song like that won’t help anyone feel better, sweetheart. It’s your angelic voice. It’s the effort you put in to comfort them that helps.”
“Did I help you? Because I thought maybe this was silly but also… you don’t seem angry anymore, so…”
He grabs the back of my neck and pulls my mouth to his. When he releases it, it’s only to say, “I need to knot you again.”
“Oh,” I whisper, knowing I won’t make the mistake of talking about any past sexual experiences again. In fact, I’ll be extra careful not to upset him at all if I can help it.
He lifts me up into his arms and carries me upstairs, straight into the bathroom. He sets me on the long countertop between the sinks and I clap my hands as he starts up the shower. Amusement hits his eyes.
“Are you applauding me, wife?” he asks.
“Shower time,” I say and swing my feet. “Are you gonna do what you did last time, um… in there?” I point.
Wow, does he ever have a beautiful smile. I could stare at it all day, for the rest of my days.
“Is that what you want?” he asks, eyes playful. “You want my mouth between your legs?”
I’m embarrassed. I hide my face behind my hands. I peek between my fingers seeing him throwing his head back and laughing. He then gently pulls my hands away from my face. “My wife’s wish is also my command.”
As if I could command an alpha. But I guess I have, because he’s going to do that thing with his tongue again.
I’m so happy to have gotten him laughing after how angry he was that I feel something I don’t generally feel – giddiness. And that must be why I’m being so bold.
I hop off the counter, unbutton the shirt and set it on the counter beside myself as he drops his jogging pants and steps out of them. I lift them, fold them, and then set them beside the shirt I was just wearing before pulling the socks off and walking into the steam where I’m excited about having his mouth between my legs again, where I hope he’ll wash me again, and this time, maybe I’ll try returning the favor, washing him, too.
I lift the sponge from the shelf while I’m still feeling a little bold. “Can I wash you this time, too?”
He gives me a look that’s so hot, we could be in cold water right now and I probably wouldn’t even feel it.
10
Grey
“Look how wrinkled my toes are,” she muses, showing me the bottoms of her feet. I flip down that way and grab her foot, then kiss the pad of her big toe before tickling the sole.
She squeals and rolls over to escape me but nearly falls off the bed, so I move fast and catch her.