Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
"Yes,” Maggie says. “That part was exciting, too. It felt a little dangerous. I didn’t know what you would do next, and not being in control was almost reassuring. I don’t think I’d like you talking to me the way you do to Hans, though. Some of what you said to him was shocking.”
“I like it,” Hans chimes in. “I try to get Xander to go even further, but he won’t.”
“Why don’t you?” Maggie asks. “If that’s what Hans wants, why don’t you give it to him?”
“I don’t think he’s ready. Another part of being a good Dom is gauging where your Sub is mentally. You both probably did more than you should have just now. I was selfish. After I went to The Covenant, I was jittery and needed something. So that was me burning off the residual adrenaline. One day, Hans will be ready to take on much more, but we aren’t there yet.”
“Okay,” Maggie says as she turns on the shower. “I’m going to take a quick shower, and then I’ll grab Hans some food. Do you want anything while I'm down there?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m good for now. I want to ensure the two of you eat and drink lots of water.”
CHAPTER 18
Margarete
Istop at the bottom of the stairs as I hear a man’s voice down the hall.
“You think I’m nuts? You should’ve seen Xander. That man is in love. It’s funny. I always thought he was straight.”
“Cyrus, keep your voice down,” Azadeh replies.
“The way those three were going at it at the crack of dawn, I’m sure they know we’re gonna talk.”
I reach the kitchen and clear my throat loudly.
Azadeh smiles. “Good morning, Margarete.”
“It was a good morning, all right,” the man with the burn marks says as he drinks from his coffee cup. I think his name is Cyrus.
Azadeh hits him on the back of the head. He glares at her before pulling her onto his lap, causing her to squeal with laughter.
“What can I get you for breakfast, Margarete?” Azadeh asks.
“I’m okay, but I was wondering if I could take a plate to Hans?”
Cyrus taps Azadeh’s ass as she stands and maneuvers around the designer kitchen. “Cyrus, why don’t you go about your day so Margarete and I can have a girl talk?”
Cyrus shoots up like an arrow, kisses Azadeh on the cheek, and heads out the back door.
“Have a seat, Maggie. I’ll get you something to eat.”
“Oh, no, it’s okay. Hans needs to eat.”
“I’m Persian, Maggie. It’s a grave sin if you don’t feed your guests. And I’ll be offended if you don’t eat my food. I’ll make Hans a plate, too, don’t you worry. I love feeding people.”
I smile at her kindness and sit on one of the stools at the island. I don’t know what to say, and I suddenly feel awkward.
“You want to ask me something?” Azadeh says as if reading my mind.
I rub my hands against my dress, my palms clammy with nerves.
“It’s okay if you do. I don’t know if Xander told you, but I used to help girls like you.” She chuckles as she cuts up some feta cheese. “Truth be told, I was close to becoming like you.”
My ears perk up as I listen. “Xander hasn’t told me much.”
“He’s a good man. Not many men like him in the world. I know he looks rough, but he has a soft center. We met when we trained together. I wanted to save girls like me, and he wanted to avenge someone he loved.” Azadeh shakes her head, smiles, and places a tray before me. “A traditional Persian breakfast, but if this isn’t to your liking, I can make you bacon and eggs.”
“Turkey bacon?” I ask.
“No, the pork kind, I’m afraid. Cyrus would lose his ever-loving mind if I tried to pass turkey off as bacon.”
I gaze down at the spread of fresh flatbread, feta cheese, walnuts, jam, cucumbers, and fresh herbs. “This looks wonderful, thank you.”
“I can get Zeke to pop to the store if you’d like turkey bacon. It wouldn’t be a bother.”
I wave her off as I pick up a piece of bread and smear some feta cheese on top with a knife. “Oh, no. I was asking because you said you were Muslim.”
She giggles, and I find the sound soothing. “I grew up Muslim. I’m not Muslim anymore. Oddly, though, I still haven’t tried pork. You’d think I’d want to, but when you’ve never eaten something, you tend to stay away from it. It’s kind of like when a person has a nut intolerance that they grow out of but still doesn’t consume nuts.” She grabs a pack of cigarettes from the counter and turns to me. “You mind?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s your house.”
“But you’re my guest. Your comfort matters to me. You can take the girl out of Iran, but you’ll never take Iran out of the girl.”