Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
“I was craving your bacon cupcake,” he said, with a wolfish grin.
I grinned back. “You came all the way from East Village for a cupcake?”
“I couldn’t sleep. They were all I could think about.”
The way he said the words had made me reach out to hold onto something. My hands had connected with the hard edge of the wooden table. Cringing with embarrassment, I’d walked away to hide just how smitten I was with him. “We’re actually closed,” I said.
He’d come over to lean against the counter to watch me.
“Shall I get you a towel?” I asked awkwardly.
“Nope.”
I cleared my throat. “Like I said, we’re … um … kind of closed.”
“I know, but Aldie mentioned you took requests from people you liked.”
I lowered my head to hide my smile. “And you would qualify?”
“I’m hoping that I do.”
I’d taken another deep shaky breath again and returned to the dough I had been rolling. When I trusted my voice to remain stable, I replied, “We don’t have any more of those. We’re sold out of them.”
He came around the counter.
At his approach, my heart stopped.
“Let’s make some together.” Even though he was supposedly talking about bacon cupcakes, his voice, and eyes told me a different story.
I began to back away as though I was being cornered.
“Maybe you can teach me,” he said softly.
“Um ... you’re not supposed to be back here.”
He immediately stopped then, hands in the air, his beautiful eyes almost slate gray with some emotion I didn’t understand.
His very presence was scrambling my brain.
“I’ll leave, but I’m not going without my cupcakes. You can name your price. I’m that desperate for a taste.”
I had stared at him, lost with my heart beating so hard my chest ached. Did he feel the same way I did? Someone as gorgeous as him? “Uh?”
He’d looked back at the rain pouring through the glass doors and turned back to me with a soft, desperate look. “I hate the rain ... please don’t make me go back out there.”
That day felt so far away now. We were both so young and I was so full of hope for the future. Today, I felt as though something blunt and rusty had been stabbed into my stomach. I turned away from the window and my gaze went back to the ceiling. Did he actually hate the rain or had he just said that to ensure that I didn’t throw him out? And in the same vein, I’d never been able to ascertain for sure how he felt about me. Some days back then, he couldn’t take his eyes off me, then he walked away without a word.
I rose up from the bed and found myself walking to his room. He was not in, but I just wanted to lie on his bed again, breathe in his scent.
I knocked on his door just as a courtesy, in case one of the maids was in there, but before I could even retract my hand, the door was pulled open suddenly.
It was almost so unexpected I nearly fell into him.
Levan reached out for me, firm hands on my arms, and when he seemed sure I was steady again, he let me go.
I felt the loss so keenly.
He stared into my eyes, his expression remaining unreadable.
My mind spun. He was back and he did not even bother to come to me. “I— um ...”
His jaw was covered in dark stubble, his nose still badly bruised and swollen, the wound on his forehead protected by a bandage. It pained me severely to see him so battered, but I also lost my ability to breathe from how relieved I was to see him alive and so close to me. All I could think of was grazing my finger across his beard ... tasting his sweet hot mouth and having his cock fill the throb of emptiness in my core. I couldn’t even remember why I had come here.
I looked over his shoulder to see the pelting rain coursing down the massive windows, and I remembered. “I wanted to ask you a question.”
He raised an eyebrow as if to say go on, then winced, when the simple action hurt him.
“Do you … um really not like the rain?”
He shook his head. “What?’
“Remember that early morning when you came to the bakery looking for bacon cupcakes,” I explained, “you said you hated the rain.”
His eyes fluttered shut for a brief tender moment.
I found mine filling with tears. “I’m sorry, Levan.”
He opened his eyes. “For what?”
I bit my bottom lip. “I’m so sorry for putting you into this mess. I’m sorry for making your brother angry with you, for the loss I am causing your family financially, and for the legal troubles I’ve brought to you.”
“Hmm … why don’t you come in, Bianca.” He stepped back.
I accepted the quiet invite and walked in. Shutting the door behind me I watched as he walked away toward his bathroom.