Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 128812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
I look back in his direction. "Excuse me?"
I try for an indignant tone, but the words squeak out when I see his teeth digging into his lower lip.
"Do you want to hide it?" he asks. "Because if that's the case, we can't even be in the same room together. You can't control yourself around me."
I glare at him. "I can, too!"
He tilts his head, a look of doubt on his face.
"This is different," I assure him with a wave of my hand to indicate the room. "You're shirtless, and I'm full of your cum. It changes things."
He licks at those perfect fucking lips of his. "Do you think there will be many days when you aren't full of my cum?"
My cock kicks, and he laughs again when I pull the blanket up higher on my hips.
"Besides," he says, pausing to speak just before popping the last of his candy bar in his mouth. "I'm pretty sure everyone already knows."
"Because of the audio recordings in the house?" I ask.
He shakes his head. "Casper assures me he's the only one who heard, and that he turned it off when he realized what was happening."
"He's not the gossiping type?"
"I can't say he wouldn't chatter about some things while waiting for the coffee pot to fill in the mornings, but I don't think that's something he'd share with anyone in the group," he explains. "I wasn't exactly very professional when we went into that dungeon and found you."
"I don't remember all of it."
"I wish you didn't remember any of it," he mutters.
"Tell me," I insist.
"I dropped to my knees and cupped your face," he begins. "I reacted like a lover, not a teammate. Anyone who was paying attention could probably see that there was more there than concern."
"I hate that I don't remember that part," I say.
"You don't seem convinced," he prods, reading my mood in a way that should concern me, but somehow it doesn't.
"You acted like you were concerned for me when I got back to the house, but there was no affection," I remind him. "I didn't know where I stood with you. I figured you were back in the we're-just-friends mode."
He pulls in a deep breath, releasing it on a sigh. "I couldn't get past the anger with myself for putting you in that situation. I feel responsible for every bruise. I figured you'd hate me after what I let happen to you."
"First," I begin, wincing when I shift to face him a little better.
"See?" he says. "Still in pain, and I—"
"You know better than to blame yourself for the choices other people make," I interrupt. "You have no control over their actions."
"If I hadn't been touching you-"
"I'm not going to lie and say it was worth it because it sucked all the way around, but we both made choices. I stepped into you. I knew the risks, and I took them anyway. You weren't alone in that."
I hold up my hand to silence him when he opens his mouth to continue arguing.
"Do I think it's a good idea for us to infiltrate another group of bigoted assholes together again? Probably not, but-"
"Do you think I'd let you do it alone?" he growls, pissed at even the idea of something like that.
I raise my eyebrows. "The domineering, do what I say shit is super sexy in the bedroom, Frankie. Don't get me wrong, but that shit will not fly when it comes to work."
"You can't do that shit alone."
"And I won't be, but you can't interfere with what Cerberus asks me to do, and I won't do that with your jobs."
"We'll discuss that later," he says as if time will change my mind.
I pull in a breath, trying to calm myself. There's something about having the chance to speak my mind without worrying he's going to take off and put another decade between us. It makes it very difficult to bite my tongue right now, but I also know that until we're faced with an issue to argue about, then there's no sense in arguing about what-ifs right now. It would only be a waste of time and energy.
I know him well enough to know the argument will be the same on his end when we face it.
"Will we share a room?" I ask, trying to shift gears.
"On our next job? I guess it depends on what we're doing."
I glare at him, watching his face transform with a smile.
The man is fucking with me, and I can't decide if I want to smile right back or grow irritated.
I opt for the grin.
"Do you want to share a room?" he asks, his eyes dipping as if he's uncertain of my answer and preparing himself for disappointment.
"Are we dating or are we together?"
"Together?" he says, making it sound more like a question than an answer.