Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
“You act like this is a punishment.”
“I don’t like being told what to do,” she shot back at me.
“We need to work on that,” I drawled, thinking of the ways I’d like to order her around, naked, beneath me.
“We don’t need to work on anything. I’ll be gone soon. You’ll never see me again,” she said like an accusation, jerking back the covers.
I watched her as she fumbled with the sheets while getting under them before finally turning her blue eyes to me.
“What?” she asked.
“Why is it that you seem upset by that?”
Her chin lifted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I am upset about you telling me what to do.”
She knew exactly what I was talking about. Little minx. And I’d thought she didn’t lie. I bit back a smile.
“Sure you are. Hell, who wouldn’t be upset over being forced to sleep on a top-of-the-line mattress instead of a sofa? Might as well take a swing at me,” I drawled sarcastically as I sat down and did my best not to show how fucking much my shoulder was hurting.
“It’s time for your pain medicine.” Her voice took on a different tone. There was concern in it now.
“I’m about to take it,” I told her.
“Do I need to get you some water?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Don’t need it.”
I shook a pill into my hand and popped it into my mouth, swallowing, then glanced back at her. “I could use some help getting my shirt off,” I told her. I’d slept with it on last night, but I didn’t like it.
She took a moment before responding, then nodded and got back out of the bed to walk around until she was standing in front of me. I should have asked her before she got in bed, but she had me so damn distracted that I hadn’t thought about it.
“Um, so…what is the best way to do this?” she asked, looking down at my shirt.
Right now, I was considering cutting the bastard off. Ransom had helped me wrap my shoulder up so I could shower earlier, then get dressed. I hadn’t considered how hard it would be to get undressed.
“I can bend my elbow. I just can’t lift my arm,” I told her. “If you can get it off the good side first, then we can ease it down this side.”
She nodded and licked her lips nervously before taking the hem of my shirt and slowly inching it up my chest. Her eyes flickered to mine, and I watched as her cheeks flushed. This wasn’t the time to tease her, but I fucking wanted to. I wanted to do a lot of things to her, and the more I was around her, that desire got stronger.
The left arm was out, and it was over my head easily enough. There was some slight hesitation as she studied my wounded shoulder before gently sliding the shirt over and down my arm. Her extra care not to hurt me told me more than she wanted to. She didn’t hate me. If she had, she’d have enjoyed causing me pain.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice huskier than normal.
“You’re welcome,” she breathed out, as if relieved that it was over.
When she started to back up, I grabbed her wrist with my left hand, and her eyes widened in surprise as they shot up to meet mine.
“I will sleep better if you’re in my bed. The sofa isn’t comfortable,” I told her.
She blinked, and her expression softened. “Okay,” she said just above a whisper.
I let go of her even though I didn’t want to. I wanted to pull her close and use the one hand I could move to feel up and under that shirt she was wearing. Feel the smooth skin of her flat stomach that she had been flashing all afternoon.
But I was going to—at least I could admit that to myself. She wouldn’t be leaving this house without me having a taste of her. Even if it was only a small one.
Thirty-Nine
Bay
My leg was once again draped over Hale’s thigh with his hand holding on to it. I didn’t open my eyes, not wanting to face this or him.
Last night had felt different. Even after the wine was no longer affecting me, I knew something had changed. And not just with me. It had changed with Hale. A fluttering in my stomach began when I thought about how he had looked at me last night when he said why he wanted me to sleep in his bed.
While one part of my brain, likely the sane section, was telling me this was Stockholm syndrome, the other side was sure there was something more to this. Something deeper. But then I wasn’t very good with choosing the right men to trust. And this man had every red flag created waving brightly over his head. They were impossible to miss. Yet my body tingled when he looked at me. Whether I wanted to admit that or not, it did.