Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
“You are my wife, goddammit.”
The cool, calm, dangerous warnings from before vanished. In their place was a heated Nico—a man beyond patience and reasoning. The dark abyss from before blazed with something I couldn’t quite place—something that called to me to actually listen—almost something like desperation.
“This is our marriage—our home, and I won’t sleep in this bed alone while my wife is across the hall. Now, stop. Please.”
Somewhere in those last three words, something cracked in his façade, and I saw past another domineering man. I saw a piece of the man who worried about his grandfather and genuinely smiled any time they spoke on the phone. I saw a piece of a man who asked about a coworker’s wife and child. I saw—just a man. Maybe a lonely one.
For a moment, I looked at Nico as someone other than another person trying to control my life and heard my mother’s words.
It won’t always be hard, but you must be strong enough to get past the tough exterior these men portray. The truth is, we’re stronger than them all, and they just need to know they can be vulnerable with us. That, mia bambina, is when the real marriage replaces the arranged one.
“Fine,” I almost whispered.
He blinked like I’d hit him but quickly recovered, patching up any cracks that exposed any weaknesses. He stood tall and nodded, finally giving me room to breathe. “Thank you.”
I’d just agreed to share a room—a bed—with him, and he nodded at me like it was a business merger. It ticked me off just enough to slide back to petulance. “But I call the right side.”
His nostrils flared. “Ver—”
“Right. Side. Nicholas.”
I followed his eyes to where they flicked to a book, watch, and alarm clock on the right nightstand. My lips twitched, barely holding back a smile, knowing he was considering fighting this battle, but knowing he would lose.
His fists clenched, but he eventually caved. “Fine.”
“Thank you. It was a pleasure doing business with you.”
Not appreciating my gloating, he stomped to the bathroom and slammed the door again. While he showered, I took extreme pleasure in moving my bedside knickknacks to the right side-table.
That night, I clung to the edge of the bed, both hoping and terrified to turn into him. I took a modicum of pleasure, pretending to sleep like a baby as I listened to him toss and turn, grumbling about discomfort and the damn left side.
I was almost completely asleep, relaxing away from the edge, when I heard his muttered, ‘fuck it,’ and as soft as a parent too scared to wake a sleeping child, he slipped his arm around my waist and tugged me back to meet him in the middle.
My first instinct was to jerk up and demand to know what the fuck he was doing, but curiosity won out. Would I feel him pressing his erection against my back as he tried to take advantage of us in the same bed? Did he want to see if he could catch me off guard in my sleep?
Did I want him to? Did I want to blame being half-awake as the reason I even considered letting him take advantage of me?
But I never got the chance because he didn’t do any of that.
Instead, soft lips caressed my shoulder, and for the first time all night, he stopped tossing and turning, falling fast asleep with me in his arms.
The craziest thing was, so did I.
Twenty-One
Vera
“Three more shots of tequila, sir,” Raelynn shouted at the bartender.
“Two,” Nova called over Rae’s shoulder.
“Oh, come on, Nova. You tried to get out of drinking at the last bar,” Rae whined.
“One of us has to get us home…hopefully soon.”
Rae rolled her eyes. “You know my driver will get us home. Just a little tappy-tap to my phone and poof, he whisks us away in a chariot.”
“And when will you be tappy-tapping? Before we’re throwing up our lunch from last year or after?”
“Definitely after,” Raelynn said with a smile and a wink. “That salad was a waste of time, and I want it purged from this temple.”
Nova tried to hold her stare, but her lips pinched, the first sign of her breaking and fighting off a smile. She shook her head and gave in, her lips parting around a soft laugh. “You’re crazy.”
“One of us has to be.”
Grabbing my shot glass from the bar top, I winked at Nova. A camaraderie of sorts between the two non-crazy girls completely in love with a wild one. She rolled her eyes but winked back, and neither of us mentioned how she didn’t actually drink the shot, but instead, lifted it in a toast with us and quickly slid it back to the bartender.
With the alcohol burning through my veins, mixing with the other copious amounts of drinks we’d had that night, I decided to ruffle Raelynn’s feathers.