Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 70661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
He didn’t blink as he looked at me. “Doesn’t matter. My father and sister haven’t gone anywhere…but they aren’t the same.”
6
Maverick
It was an unusually cool evening, so I started a fire.
The flames leaped to life in the hearth and filled my bedroom with enough warmth to push the cold air through the cracks in the windows. With a glass of scotch in my hand, I took a drink as I sat up in bed, watching the flames dance.
The second I yelled at Arwen on the phone, I’d felt like shit.
Especially when I heard the tears.
I wasn’t sympathetic or compassionate, but something about her pain tore me up inside. I couldn’t stand it. When she sang or spoke, it was the most beautiful sound. But her tears were another story.
Work had been a nightmare because we’d increased production and made errors in the process. As a result, we lost an entire batch of product and wasted the entire day. My temperature was running hot, and she called at the wrong time.
I guess I should have controlled my anger better.
I’d never been good at that sort of thing.
A knock sounded on my bedroom door. My hand returned the glass to the nightstand, and I stared at the door, knowing Abigail wasn’t the one on the other side. Arwen hadn’t texted me, but she was more comfortable stopping by my bedroom when she assumed I didn’t have company. “Come in.”
She opened the door and came inside, in her sleep shorts with messy hair. She continued to grip the handle as she lingered in the doorway. Even though her eyes were on the bed, she didn’t immediately dive for it.
I was in my boxers as I sat on the mattress, getting ready for bed even though I wasn’t tired. Now that she’d walked in the door, wearing shorts that let her ass hang out, I was even less tired. But after the day we’d had, I suspected she wasn’t in the mood for sex. And after being such an ass, I would be wrong to demand it.
She continued to stand at the door, like she was afraid to ask for what she wanted.
I grabbed the sheets beside me and pushed them down, inviting her to sleep.
She shut the door then crawled into my bed. Her sexy legs disappeared under the cotton sheets, and she pulled the hair tie out of her ponytail so the strands would come free across the pillow. Her eyes were still puffy from all the crying she’d done that afternoon. No amount of makeup could cover it.
I slid down under the sheets then turned off the lamp at my bedside. When the room was blanketed in darkness, the flames illuminated the walls. The gentle crackle and pop of the fire filled the silence.
She looked at the flames before she looked at me again. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”
My wife needed me, and I’d be a dick if I kicked her out. “Yeah.”
She stuck to her side of the bed and didn’t try to cuddle with me.
I didn’t care to show affection to a woman. There was only kissing and touching before sex. Then there was just fucking. After the fun part was over, there was no reason to share another embrace. She stuck to her side of the bed, and I stuck to mine.
But I knew that wasn’t what she wanted.
What she needed.
I scooted closer to her and wrapped my arm around her waist, bringing us close together under the sheets. The curve of her back was so prominent that it was easy to slide my arm into place, easy to drag her closer into me.
Her eyes opened and she visibly melted, like affection was all she needed. She rested her head against mine with her hand on my chest. Her eyes closed again, and she breathed a happy sigh, like she this was all the medicine she needed to heal.
My fingers moved into her hair, and I gently pulled the strands away from her face, showing her almond-shaped eyes and those full lips. I’d never been with a woman more than a couple of times, and I’d never slept with a woman without actually fucking her. But Arwen was a very rare exception.
She was the only woman who could get my attention and keep it.
She was the only woman who could call and ask for anything.
She was the only woman I would choose over my father.
Because she was my wife.
She carried my name and my ring, identifying herself as my property everywhere she went. It increased my social standing and gave me a sense of pride. I was heartless and idiotic at times, but I knew I had a trophy on my hands.
A priceless heirloom.
“Thank you for coming today,” she whispered into the darkness, her voice barely louder than the sound of the flames.