Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 48808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
He throws himself down on his side, all dramatic huffs and side-eyes.
Chloe laughs again, peeking up at me.
"Don't look at me like that," I grumble. "This is your fault."
"My fault?" She blinks at me. "I didn't do anything."
"Little liar." I press a hard kiss to her lips. "You came out here without panties, looking like a goddess. I'm not responsible for anything that happened after you crawled onto my lap."
"Fine," she smirks. "I'll take credit."
"You mean blame."
"Sure. If that's what you want to call getting orgasms." She shrugs, her expression light. "Please continue to blame me for them."
Christ, she's perfect.
I kiss her hard on the mouth again, and then settle back, just content to hold her while she steals my coffee mug, sipping it like it's hers.
"I called your dad this morning."
She freezes with the mug halfway to her lips. "W-what?"
"I told him about Donny."
"Trystan…"
"Wait, please." I place my fingers over her lips, hoping she gives me a chance to explain before she kicks my ass. She grumbles and then jerks her chin in a nod. But she's still tense on my lap, still pissed.
"He needed to know, princess," I say softly. "This isn't something you should have to tackle without his guidance. He loves you. He wants to protect you. I know you don't think you need it, but maybe, just this once, let him have this."
"I don't want him to go to jail."
"You really think he'll risk leaving you, your mom, and your sisters like that?"
"Yes." She scowls as soon as she says it, her shoulders slumping. "No. I just…" She chews on her bottom lip. "Is he mad?"
I understand what she's asking…what she's really so damn afraid of. And that breaks my fucking heart.
"At you? Never," I rasp. "It isn't your fault. You didn't ask for that prick to treat you like you were there for his pleasure just because you existed in the same office as him, Chloe. You didn't ask for him to send any of the shit he texted you. And you don't deserve to feel a single goddamn iota of guilt for protecting yourself and his wife because of his actions. You have nothing to answer for, nothing to apologize for, and absolutely no responsibility here, okay?"
She chews on her bottom lip before nodding. "I guess I just feel…bad. Like it's my fault Donny ruined his wife's life and his friendship with my dad."
"It isn't your fault."
"I know," she whispers. "Rationally, I know that. I guess it's just going to take a little while to sink in fully."
"Take the time," I murmur, getting it. Guilt isn't always rational. It whispers in the darkest parts of our minds, taking root, and refusing to remain silent. But that doesn't make it ours to carry. "Maybe it'd help if you talk to someone."
"A therapist?"
"If you want." I try not to push, but it isn't the worst idea I've heard. She could probably use a professional to help her work through her feelings and put them in order. You don't even have to know her like I do to know she's all over the place with them right now.
Who could blame her?
Women deal with shit like this all the time. That doesn't mean it should be normalized or brushed off as just the way the world works. Fuck that. It isn't the way the world works unless you're a prick like her ex-boss. And it damn sure won't be the way her world works, with shit like this piling up like wreckage in her psyche, making her doubt herself.
She's allowed to be exactly who she is and take up every inch of space she wants to take up without anyone making her feel like she needs to shrink herself to stay safe. Hell will freeze over before I let that happen.
But I don't push her, either. I just hold her, letting her decide for herself how she wants to move forward.
"Maybe I'll do that," she finally says, softly. And I breathe a sigh of relief.
"That's good, baby. That's real good." I press my lips to her temple.
"What else did you guys talk about?" she asks after a moment, settling against my chest again.
"Nothing much."
"Oh."
"I thought you might kick my ass if I told him that we fucked like rabbits yesterday."
"Trystan!" She smacks me across the shoulder. "You better not."
I smirk down at her, amused. "Didn't plan on it, baby. I like my balls attached, and I know your dad well enough to know he'd rip them off if I said some shit like that to him."
"So what did you guys talk about?" she presses.
"Nothing much," I murmur, teasing. "I told him that I had you tied to my bed and planned to keep you there. He told me no takebacks."
"Trystan!" she growls like a feral cat, making me laugh. And then she carefully sets my mug down and tries to get her hands around my throat to strangle me.