Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 94076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Beast clearly only has eyes for his wife. And his level of scariness drops when he looks adoringly at his baby daughter. But it’s easy to imagine how terrifying he’d be if anyone tried to hurt his wife or child. I’d bet my life he would go from zero to demon in a matter of seconds.
I look at the club’s first lady, envious of her confidence and uncomplicated life. She’s beautiful, with a heart-shaped face and a thick blonde plait hanging down her back. Her eyes are big and bright blue, and her lips full and glossy. She looks like a Disney princess. Except she’s dressed in a pair of tight jeans, knee-high boots, and a Led Zeppelin T-shirt.
God, the way Beast is looking at her tells me exactly what he’s going to do to her when he gets her back to their room. And by the way she’s looking back at him, she’s going to let him do whatever it is he wants.
Everyone is getting laid.
I glance to my right and see Mrs. V. smiling and uncharacteristically laughing with Mr. Peters the milk delivery man. This has been going on for weeks. They’re like two sharks circling each other, waiting for the other to make a move.
Yep, everyone is getting dick but me.
I put my head down and focus on finishing the dishes. I tell myself I’m not waiting to see Lars. Because I don’t want to see him. I don’t. But if I do, I’ve already decided I’m going to act like last night never happened.
But when the breakfast crowd thins and it becomes clear that he’s not going to show, I feel the disappointment sink in my stomach.
“It’s not unusual, you know?” Mrs. V. says when everyone has gone and the last of the dishes have been put away.
“What isn’t?”
“Lars not showing for breakfast. Sometimes he has to take care of club business late into the night and catches up on his shuteye.”
“Despite what you think, I wasn’t waiting to see him.”
“Yeah, and bears don’t shit in the woods.” Mrs. V. shakes her head. “This is going to be painful to watch.”
“What is?”
“You’re both as bullheaded as each other,” she says, walking away. “Can’t admit to feelings when they’re as bright as sunshine.”
“I don’t know what that means,” I call out after her.
But she doesn’t turn around and disappears out of the kitchen, leaving me alone.
With still an hour left on my shift, I set about tidying the butler’s pantry, putting away the different ingredients I’ve used for breakfast as well as the pots and pans.
I’m reaching on my tiptoes to put away a jar of seasoning when I feel him. It’s like my skin begins to tingle, and I know he’s there before I even see or hear him. I glance over my shoulder and there he is, standing in the doorway looking fifty shades of fucking gorgeous.
Immediately, my defenses go up and I get even busier stacking away the ingredients and arranging the spices.
“Good morning.” The deep timbre of his voice slides over my skin like a slow kiss, and I swallow hard.
“Morning,” I say, concentrating on the spice jars being in perfect alignment. Which no one gives a shit about. But I can’t bring myself to look at him.
“You’re pissed at me,” he says calmly.
“What gives you that idea?”
I’ve now decided the spice jars are going to be arranged alphabetically.
“I can feel the frost over here,” he says.
He steps inside the pantry.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m fine.”
“Look at me,” he says.
But I don’t, because if I put the cumin before the basil, the world might end.
“Ella.”
Lars saying my name catches me off guard and I look up. Damn.
I cross my arms as if to protect myself from him. But it’s futile. Nothing could protect me from Lars.
“It’s okay to be pissed at me. I hurt your feelings, but I didn’t mean to.”
He comes closer, but I back away. “You’re making it a big deal when it’s not.”
“Oh, it’s a big deal. And I’ve come to make things right.”
“What do you mean by that?”
He closes the space between us, and I’ve run out of pantry and feel my back touch the brick wall behind me. He towers above me.
“By doing this,” he says, and then he does what I’m not expecting him to do. He cups my face in his big hands and kisses me. Fiercely. I try to fight him because I’m still hurt from last night, but I don’t tell him to stop, and every attempt to fight him off is halfhearted, until I surrender completely and kiss him back.
“Come to my room with me,” he rasps against my throat, his lips brushing my skin.
“Why?”
He trails his lips along my jaw and back to my mouth.
“Because I’ve been thinking…”
“And...?”
He stops kissing me and runs his thumb across my bottom lip, his eyes focused intently on my mouth. “Because I don’t want anyone else touching these lips.”