Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“Because?” I throw my hands up. “This is insane, that’s why. I haven’t seen you in ten years, then you come storming back into my life in a cloud of blood and threats, and I’m supposed to just, like, shove your ring on my finger and be happy about it? Hell fucking no.”
“That would be nice.”
“No, it wouldn’t, because then I’d be certifiably insane. Like you definitely are.”
He shrugs as if his mental health is of no concern. “I also can’t leave you to my family. I need to be here in case one of them decides to come bother you.”
“Yeah, great, that’s better. You need to protect me from your own family.” When he doesn’t react to that patently absurd statement, I step toward him, looking hard. “Carson, I agreed to come here because, to be totally honest, I’m freaked the heck out. Iain’s dying, my dad’s gone, my uncles are gone, and I just—” I try to still my racing heart but I’m having trouble. “I don’t want to lose anything else.”
He nods slowly. “I understand that.”
“You said you could save Smoke. I’m thinking—” I look away. Could I really do this? Could I actually give myself to this man all to save some bar?
But it’s not just a bar. It’s not just a building. It’s the people—it’s Bernie, Keely, Jamila and Fulco, it’s all the regulars and all the future regulars. It’s the beating heart of my entire world, the place I’ve poured my soul into.
Could I really give myself for that?
Yes. I’ve done it once. When my grandfather handed me the keys, Bottle of Smoke became my entire existence.
Marrying Carson to save it wouldn’t be all that much different.
At least that’s how I’m trying to rationalize it.
Doesn’t make any sense, but I keep trying to make some argument that doesn’t involve my legs wrapped around his face.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he says, taking a step closer.
Deep breath. Let it out. “If I married you, and that’s a big if—”
He smirks. “When, my darling Ash.”
“If, I’ll want concessions. Smoke is important to me and I won’t stop working there. I’ll need money for renovations, money for payroll, hell, money for raises—”
“I told you already. I’ll give you whatever you want.”
Frustrations swells. “What about answers? What about a straight reason for why you’re doing this whole bribing me to marry you thing? Is it really so hard for a freaking Crowley to find a wife in this city?”
“No,” he admits.
“Then why me?”
“Because you’re Ash.” He says it like that explains anything. Instead, it only pisses me off, but he keeps talking. “You’re my best friend’s mouthy little sister. I used to think about you all the time—” He stops himself suddenly, as if he said too much. He thought about me? All the time? When did he do that? “I know you, even if you think I don’t. I’m not looking for any woman to marry me, I’m looking for a woman worthy of my attention, worthy of my time and devotion. Worthy of my obsession.”
I hold up a hand. “Okay, there’s that word again. Obsession. You know I really hate that word coming out of your mouth, right?”
“Obsession,” he repeats, coming toward me.
I bump into the wall. Sunlight spills through a nearby window. The house smells like roses and old wood. He looms, massive and beautiful, staring into my face with an expression caught between divine ecstasy and lust.
“You’re just—you’re confused. You’re mourning Iain. You don’t want to marry me.”
“That’s where you’re very wrong.” He leans forward, pinning me there with his hands on either side of my shoulders. I shiver at his size, at his pure physical brutality. This man is a beast, a monster.
He’s a swarm of hungry insects coming to strip me clean.
“Explain to me again, one more time, why this is a good idea?”
“No,” he says, lips coming toward mine.
I nearly yelp. But he doesn’t kiss me. Instead, his mouth brushes across my cheek, along my jaw, toward my ear.
And I moan.
Jesus, it’s mortifying, but this low moan escapes my lips involuntarily, and even though I snap my jaw shut, it’s too late.
He heard it. Hell, he must’ve tasted it.
“When you’re my wife, I will be devoted to you,” he whispers, low and throaty, like that damn sound I just made drove him wild. “I mean that, Ash. Obsessed is only the beginning. I will throw myself into you. I will please you however you need, in ways you can’t imagine now. Hands tied behind your back on my massive bed, your lovely wet pussy in the air—”
“Carson,” I whisper, shocked and more than a little aroused, my nipples stiff and my pussy throbbing.
“I will taste you slowly, suck your clit, drink you down, hold your hands pinned above your head as I make you come. Again and again, my obsession, I want to make you scream. I want to make you black out, dragged right to the edge of perfection, only to pull you back until you’re whimpering, trembling, begging for me to fuck your throat and come on your lovely little tongue. I want to ruin you, Ash, only to rebuild you, again and again, over and over, night after night. I’ll come on your beautiful tits, come on your ass, inside your pussy, smear it across your lips, and I’ll bathe you gently and tenderly when we’re through. I will give you so much.”