Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 104127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
I can’t help but be drawn to him, even though I know I shouldn’t.
As I play, I find he’s all I can think about. The sadness I saw reflected in his blue eyes haunts me, even though it shouldn’t. He caused it.
Then my thoughts turn to something else entirely. What would he think if he saw me play?
Would he appreciate it?
Would he be moved?
Why do I care?
My heart seizes in my chest because I don’t know when it happened, but I do care what he thinks of me.
This place must be enchanted. Or maybe I’m just cursed.
Because there is no reason that I should fall under his spell…
Closing my eyes, I allow the cello to once again be my voice.
To say all the things I can’t say. To feel all the things I can’t feel.
The music flows through me, and I am finally home in myself. The cello speaks to my heart in a way that nothing else can. It is a part of me, and I cannot imagine my life without it.
Gideon gave this back to me.
And I’m not sure how I feel about that.
Who is this man?
Is he the criminal? Or my savior?
23
GIDEON
The smell of lavender wafts through the air, and I have to admit…it’s enticing.
I allow it to take over my senses, enjoying the warmth of the body flush against me. Without another thought, I pull her closer to me, wanting to feel her soft skin against mine. To allow her scent to imprint on me for life.
This might be the best dream I’ve had in some time.
The woman melts into me, and I nuzzle my nose into her neck.
A sigh escapes her mouth, and my eyes fly open.
Sasha.
It wasn’t a dream.
She’s in my arms. Curled up against me. Her face is buried into my chest, leg drooped over me. She wiggles against me, her hand creeping up my chest.
I need to stop this.
Not because I haven’t dreamed about this very thing, but because Sasha is asleep. When I have her, I want her to be wide awake and more than willing.
She moans softly as she presses against me, and my dick grows hard.
“Sasha,” I groan, losing my willpower with every sound she makes.
She goes still in my arms, head lifting, eyes meeting mine. She blinks several times, likely clearing the fog caused by sleep. And that’s when things sink in.
“What are you doing?” she shouts as she jumps from the bed as if it’s on fire.
Fuck. She’s pissed, and something tells me she isn’t going to buy that I was trying to stop things.
Her shoulders rise and fall with her breaths, and for the first time in my life, I feel heaviness in my chest for the way she’s looking at me.
I know she’s angry that I touched her, but it wasn’t like she’s thinking.
“I’m sorry, firefly. Believe it or not, I was dreaming.”
Her arms are crossed over her chest, as if to shield herself from me. “Sure,” she snaps. “I’m sure you were dreaming.” She air quotes dreaming.
“As ridiculous as it sounds, I was.” My head falls back on my shoulders, and I try to calm my racing heart by focusing on breathing. I shouldn’t be this anxious about an honest misunderstanding. “I said your name to wake you up. You were touching me.”
That was the wrong thing to say. Her eyes practically glow with fury, and something else I can’t put my finger on. Embarrassment.
Nah. That can’t be it.
“It doesn’t matter. You promised not to touch me. You broke it.”
I nod, attempting to head this off in a way I typically wouldn’t—by listening.
“I did. And for that, I’m sorry,” I say without a hint of sarcasm or lying.
“Just stop talking,” Sasha says sharply.
“Sasha—”
“No.” She turns around and looks at the door. “Am I still a prisoner?”
My hand rakes back through my hair. “You were never a prisoner.”
I stand from the bed, allowing my hard-on to stand tall. Might as well. There’s no denying I was turned on.
Sasha’s eyes trail down my chest, finally landing on the proof of how turned on I am.
“Oh…oh my God,” she says, heading straight for the door, never looking back.
I can’t help but smirk at her reaction. Typically, I’d call her out. Make things awkward, but I won’t this time. Not while she’s angry, believing that I went back on my promise.
I walk up behind her, putting just enough space between us while placing my finger on the pad, unlocking it, and throwing the door open.
“Go. Like I said, you’re no prisoner.”
She turns around, and we’re practically chest to chest. Some of the fight has seemed to bleed from her. “What about when I’m ready for bed? Will I be forced to sleep here still?”
“Yes. You’ll sleep with me. But until then, I’ll leave you alone.”
She stares at me for a second before narrowing her eyes. “For how long will I have to sleep in your room?”