Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
And when it was done, he set his tired eyes on me.
“Where should I put your suitcase?” he asked, hesitant.
I smiled. Sweet Shawn was worried about what I was comfortable with. “It goes wherever your luggage goes.”
It went into the enormous primary bedroom, and he tucked it against the wall opposite a fireplace, away from the king-sized bed.
Shawn had spent a ton of money not only to take care of me, but also to bring me to this secluded house. There was little else for us to do but spend time with each other, which had probably been his intention.
That made it impossible not to feel pressure to express my gratitude toward him in an intimate way, even when he hadn’t hinted at that. But the word obligation flitted through my head as I watched him unbutton his dress shirt.
It wasn’t like I didn’t want to. I absolutely did—
But I was tired.
And weirdly nervous.
Which made no sense. I’d slept with him several times already. He didn’t seem to notice my nerves, and I hurried to dig out pajamas from the suitcase someone else had packed for me.
My gaze avoided the wide mirror over the double sinks in the bathroom when I changed for bed. The last thing I wanted to see right now was my bruises or my limp, travel-flattened hair. When I padded back to the bedroom, he was already undressed and in bed.
The window beside him was open. The breeze rippled the sheet covering him, and my heart beat faster at this gorgeous man waiting for me. I shut off the light and slid in beside him, breathing rapidly but trying to be quiet so he wouldn’t notice.
“You’re looking at me like I’m a piece of meat,” he joked, “but I’m too tired.”
My nerves disappeared as a smile warmed my face. And when he leaned in to kiss me goodnight, the flames of my desire flared, burning away my exhaustion and demanding more. His mouth was gentle, but I wasn’t having it. I kissed him back with intensity, sliding against him. Like I’d commanded him without words, his large hands obeyed and roved over my skin, tracing patterns and drawing goose bumps.
“You don’t seem tired,” I murmured against his kiss, parting my lips and filling his mouth with my tongue. It sent that electric current flooding through my body, and I was thrilled, eager to have it again. The warm skin of his chest was against my bare arm as he pressed into me, deepening the kiss further.
Abruptly, he jolted, as if realizing something, and groaned. “We have to stop.”
Stop?
His hand covered mine, stilling it, the hand I had cupping him through his boxers where he was already semi-hard.
He seemed to like it, but he wanted to stop? I drew my hand away. “Why?”
“Because we’ve got plenty of time for that.”
He was so clearly lying. “And the real reason?”
“I don’t want to hurt you. I brought you here so you could heal.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, okay. And not to fuck me?”
Shawn rendered speechless? I didn’t think it was possible, and I savored the moment. It seemed like a rare event.
“I would like to do that, yes. When you’re ready. When your body’s ready.”
I hoped he could hear the truth. Juric hadn’t defeated me, and I wasn’t about to let the monster take this from me, either. “I’m not broken.”
His voice was so gentle. “I never said that.”
“I want everything how it was before,” I pleaded. “Help me get this back.”
In the moonlight, I could see the internal struggle raging behind his eyes. “Kara—”
“I want this. You want this,” I said, finding the same arrogant words he’d uttered to me outside that New York restaurant. “Stop resisting what we both want.”
He blinked and his eyes sharpened. A decision was made. “Very well. Tomorrow? You’re fair game.”
I drifted off to sleep, utterly thrilled to see Adversary Shawn again.
42
SHAWN
Kara’s blue-gray eyes settled on me when I stepped out onto the back deck overlooking the creek. Was she aware how much better the view was for me when she was standing there?
“Oh, my God,” she said. “You own a pair of jeans? Careful, someone might mistake you for an American.”
Yes, I felt more comfortable in a suit, but did she have any room to judge? She liked her professional clothes, too. But I preferred her now, the American girl in leggings and a casual t-shirt, her blonde hair pulled back to reveal her slender neck. The marks were faint, nearly gone.
I told her in German what I’d like to do to her.
“You remember I don’t speak your language?”
“Sure you do,” I said, skating my lips over the soft skin of her neck, drawing the tiniest sigh from her, proving my point.
“I need to ask a favor.” She twisted out of my embrace.