Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
In between the blur of his thrusts, the waves of the pleasure, the intensity of the expanding energy ... I saw glimpses of him. His abs tensed. A bicep braced. His eyes, tight on the place where our bodies met. His cock, slick and stiff, sliding out of me, then back inside.
It was raw. It was primal. It was a punishment and a salve, all at once. I took his furious motions and needed every thrust of it.
I rolled over, sticky from his come, and rested my head on his chest.
His hand settled on my head. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” I closed my eyes, my limbs cooperating as he hauled me higher on his body, my legs intertwined with his, our torsos now stacked on top of each other.
“I’m so sorry, Bell.” His voice cracked, and I lifted my head until I could see the misery on his face. It was a look that broke my heart.
I crawled higher up his chest until our faces were level, and I kissed his cheek, his forehead, his nose. “Don’t apologize.”
“Just let me. I can’t—” He sighed. “I can’t say it to Gwen, let me at least say it to you.”
I paused above his mouth, then slowly lowered my lips to his and kissed them softly. When I pulled off, he met my eyes for one of the first times all night.
“I forgive you,” I whispered.
It was a stupid thing to say. I was as much to blame for this as he was. We had both been selfish, and she had been the one to suffer for our sins. Still, the words seemed to do something to him. His face cleared, the pain a little less etched in those strong features. He pulled me closer, and I lay atop his body, my hand over his heart, comforted by the heavy thud of the organ.
I closed my eyes and wanted to stay in the moment forever.
I woke up as I was moved. My legs lifted and manipulated. A hand gripped my waist. I tried to sit up and my knee jabbed into something that cursed.
“Ouch.”
“What’s going on?” I allowed myself to be pulled upright.
Dario worked the sweatpants back over my hips. “I can’t find your panties.”
My eyes adjusted to the dim light and I pointed out the pair, then helped him with my shirt and sweatshirt, the sleep daze evaporating. “Are we going somewhere?”
He sat down on the bed beside me. “I’ve got to get back to Vegas. I could only skip out on jail for the one night.”
He kissed me on the forehead and it became abundantly clear that this was it, he was about to leave, and I’d be alone with my thoughts again.
I pulled on his hand. “Take me with you.”
He shook his head. “I can’t. It’s not safe for you, in Vegas.”
I followed him to the door, my anxiety growing. “Can’t you just surround me with guards and lock me away somewhere?”
He stopped and turned to face me. “I don’t trust my guys. I don’t trust anyone right now except for this group.”
He jabbed a finger in the direction of the poker game, which had fallen silent. “I know you’re safe here. And that’s the only thing keeping me sane right now.”
I frowned, and he pulled me to him. “It won’t be much longer, I promise. We’re closing in on Gwen’s father. I have a plan.”
“It was definitely her father?” I was afraid to ask if he was wrong. Afraid to think about the fact that there might be someone else out there that might want me—or Gwen—dead.
His face tightened. “Yes.” His voice grew strained. “He all but admitted it to me, before he found out he had Gwen killed by accident.” He leaned forward and kissed me, a quick hard brush of lips that didn’t ease my panic.
I reluctantly let go as he moved away. “I…” I wanted to say so many things. I wanted to thank him for coming. I wanted to tell him that I would be fine without him, even though it felt like a lie. I watched him lace up his shoes and ached at the pain that lined his face. He had so much on him right now. Gwen’s death. My safety. I straightened my shoulders and fought to keep the weakness out of my voice. “I don’t want you to worry about me.” I moved off the bed. “I’m fine here. Bored stiff. I feel guilty. But…” my voice warbled slightly. “I’m fine. Just focus on your stuff.”
He stood and stepped forward, meeting me in the middle of the dark room. The bathroom lamp lit his features, and I could see the way his gaze searched mine. “I hate abandoning you out here, but it’s for your own—”
I stopped him with a kiss. “I know. And I’m fine. I just wish…” Emotions welled and I struggled to tamper them down. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “About her.”