Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
She bites her lip and nods.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me,” Billie says. “Riley’s great. He’ll probably have a headache from the bump on his head and maybe a concussion, but there’s no break in his skull, and he’s not injured anywhere else. They’re going to keep him for a few days to monitor him. What should we do while we’re in London? Do you want me to stay behind to take care of him?”
“No,” Skyla says, obviously able to hear my sister. “Brad’s going to take care of him, and I think that’ll still be just fine. But I’ll want to see Riley before we leave in the morning.”
“The vet said you can come in anytime,” Billie says. “Are you all okay?”
“Yeah.” After our moment on the couch, I'm steadier as I look down at my girl. I need to take care of her. “We’re okay. We’ll see you in the morning.”
“Okay. I love you both. Good night.”
“Love you,” Skyla says into the phone before I hang up. “Bee’s the best.”
“She’s okay.”
Skyla grins and pushes her fingers through my beard. “The best, Mr. Blackwell. Now, I’ll take that shower, and then I’m going to get naked with my man.”
I raise an eyebrow as I climb the steps toward our bedroom. Our bedroom. “You’re remarkably calm after what you’ve been through tonight.”
She lays her head on my shoulder as I climb the stairs. “Now that the initial adrenaline has worn off, it feels different than it did in LA because I know he’s gone. He can’t hurt me or taunt me or upset me ever again. It’s over. And I’m here with you, where I always feel the safest.”
“I’m going to fucking worship you tonight.”
She grins, wrinkling her nose in that way that makes my cock twitch. “I’ll never say no to that.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
SKYLA
“I can wash my own face,” I remind Beckett as he gently smooths the warm cloth over my skin, wiping away the cleanser he used.
“I know you can,” he replies as his eyes track the movement of the cloth. “But so can I, and I need to pamper you tonight.”
My sigh is one of contentment. He’s certainly in his aftercare mode. The shower was long and hot and luxurious. He took his time washing my body, and he was careful with my hair because my scalp was sore from where The Arsehole yanked on it. Beck made me feel so treasured, it almost brought tears to my eyes.
And now, not unlike when we were in LA, I’m sitting on the bathroom vanity, wrapped in a towel, my wet hair woven into a braid, and he’s taking care of my skin.
He reaches for my rose water, and I close my eyes as he spritzes it over my face, and then his fingers gently massage my moisturizer into my skin.
“Don’t make me get too accustomed to this, Mr. Blackwell.”
“Why not?” His voice is soft as if his movements have mesmerized him as much as they have me.
“Because I’ll grow to crave it, and then you’ll be on the hook for this treatment every day.”
The corners of his lips tip up and his warm hazel eyes smile down at me, and heat pools in my belly. The love and care he shows me is as intoxicating and sensual as everything else about him. He makes my body hum with desire.
“I’ll do this for you every day if that’s what you want me to do.” He kisses my forehead as he sets the tub of moisturizer aside, then he steps between my knees, wraps his arms around my shoulders, and pulls me to him.
He’s also only wrapped in a towel that matches mine. Needing to feel his flesh in my grip, I pull the terry cloth loose and let the towel fall to the floor, then tighten my hand on his arse.
“Have I ever told you what a mighty fine arse you have?”
I feel his chuckle against my cheek. “I don’t think you have.”
“Well, that’s a shame because for the love of all the gods, Beckett, your arse could end wars.”
He barks out a laugh and tugs my towel free, then carries me to our bed, where he gently lowers me to the mattress and crawls over me, hovering. His face is suddenly so serious I can’t resist brushing my fingers through his hair.
“What is it?” I ask softly.
“You’re surprisingly calm. I know I said it before, but baby, tonight was intense.”
I nod, watching my fingers as they comb through his dark strands. “I started to break apart,” I admit softly. “When I was finally in your arms, and I knew that he couldn’t hurt me anymore, I started to feel the way I did in LA. I was shaking, and I was panicking.”
He lowers to his elbows and gently pushes his fingers into my hair, listening intently.