Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
“Think about fucking you? Every fucking day, did I even once wonder if you’d suck in bed?” I hear the smile in his voice. “No.”
“I’m glad you have faith in me,” I mumble, and he laughs, then starts to laugh so hard that the bed shakes with it.
“Christ, you make me happy.” He presses his smiling lips against my forehead, and I squeeze my eyes closed. My heart feels so big that I worry my ribcage won't be able to contain it. “How about a shower and then we figure out what we want to order for dinner?”
“Sure,” I agree and he uses his fingers under my jaw to raise my chin then he touches his lips softly against mine. When he pulls away, his gaze roams my face for a long moment before he shakes his head with a smile.
“I’ll go start the shower.” He rolls off the bed, taking a blanket from the bottom, and tossing it over me. Holding it to my chest, I sit up and watch the muscles of his back move under his skin as he walks into the bathroom. When I hear the shower turn on, I take a moment to look around. Even with as often as I’ve been here, I’ve never seen his bedroom, and I have to admit, it might be my favorite room in his house. The walls are a soft brown, and there are a few pieces of art on the walls that look like rough sketches of cars done in charcoal. The furniture is masculine, but with the burnt gold bedside lamps, a dove grey duvet, and touches of warm browns here and there, it’s cozy and fits him perfectly. When he walks out of the bathroom naked, I swallow. He really is perfect in every way.
“Showers ready.” He walks to the bed and leans over, dragging the blanket from my grasp before scooping me up in his arms and carrying me into the shower.
Twenty-Five
LOGAN
I’m not sure what wakes me, if it’s Dozer moving around, if it’s the weight of Nalia’s body pressed down the side of mine that feels so foreign, yet so fucking familiar at the same time. Or if it’s the fact that I forgot to turn on the fan over the bed, something I do every night before I fall asleep, but forgot in my exhaustion after fucking Nalia, in the shower, in the kitchen, and in bed again before we both passed out. Glancing at the clock, I see that it’s a little after midnight, which is way too early for me to be awake.
Rolling towards Nalia, I curl her into my front and close my eyes, only to have them spring open when I hear a thwack sound against my bedroom window. Holding my breath, I listen carefully and swear I hear voices coming from outside.
What the fuck?
Carefully sliding away from her, I get out of bed and walk to the window in my room that overlooks the front yard and draw back the curtain just enough to look outside. With the streetlight so far away and only my front porch light on, the yard is dark, so it takes a second for me to register what it is I’m seeing. The trees out front with streamers of toilet paper, and the shit wrapped around the bushes, in the flowerbeds, and strewn across the yard.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I bite out, letting the curtain fall back into place.
“What’s wrong?” Nalia asks in a sleepy voice, and I can just make out the silhouette of her shadow as she sits up in bed.
“Nothing, baby, stay here.” I grab my sweats from the chair in the corner of the room and put them on, then grab my bat leaning against the wall next to the door. Carrying it with me I head down the hall, though the kitchen and living room, then stop at the panel on the wall and type in the code for the alarm system near the front door while I slip on my shoes. When it clears, I open the door and step out on the porch.
“Oh shit, RUN!” A kid shouts, and six shadows all dressed in black from head to toe take off in different directions through the dark. I consider the idea of going after them but decide to let them go when I see the two expensive looking bikes lying on the ground at the end of my driveway.
“Logan.” Turning, I find Nalia standing at the mouth of the hallway with her arms wrapped around her middle, her body draped in my tee. “What happened?”
“Some kids toilet-papered the yard.”
“What?” She walks towards me and looks out the front door, her eyes going wide. “Oh my god.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, stepping outside.
“Where are you going?”
“They left their bikes, I’m going to put them in the garage and call the cops, hopefully they can use them to track the kids down.”