Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 164910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 825(@200wpm)___ 660(@250wpm)___ 550(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 825(@200wpm)___ 660(@250wpm)___ 550(@300wpm)
I can do this every day.
I button and zip up my pants and fasten my belt. Squatting down next to him, I wrap my hand around his throat. “If any man fucks you or sucks you, I’ll beat him senseless.”
He doesn’t falter, even as I start squeezing his esophagus.
“You’re so predictable,” he murmurs, pressing against my hand as he rises up to get in my face. “Why do you think I brought my date here?”
Of course. It’s always about me.
“You knew I would come,” I say.
“I wanted to see if you would.”
“And if I hadn’t?”
He breaks into a smile. “Then I guess I’d be starting to find out if you were really good in bed or if it was just my lack of experience.”
Rising up, I glare down at him. “You will find out.”
When I’m done with you.
Then you’ll know I was the best you ever had, and you’ll never get it again.
“But in the meantime, I still have things to teach you, my young Nero.” Swiping up my shirt, I pull it back on. “When are we going back in?”
I want to see the Den.
“Friday,” he answers, barely hesitating at the challenge. “You won’t get away this time.”
“I’m smarter than you think,” I state again. “You will find out.”
I throw his own words back at him. I want to know what happened to Anna-Katherine in there, and I still need some leverage.
He’ll fail at catching me. Again.
Walking away, I head for the deck. But I stop just before the sliding glass doors and glance back at him. “If you could be anywhere right now, where would you be?” I ask.
I’m not sure why I’m asking, but I never needed reasons for anything I do.
He lies on the kitchen floor, staring at the ceiling with his hands locked under his head. “In the bedroom,” he says. “Naked with you, between the cool sheets.”
I stop breathing for a second.
He looks over at me. “All night.”
I clench my jaw, staring at him with my whole damn body longing for all of that. A dark cabin. A huge bed. No sounds but us.
And that’s exactly the reason he fucking said it. He has nothing to lose by letting me know he wants me in his bed.
“But you don’t need anyone,” he says. “Do you?”
Spinning around, I charge across the deck, sliding down the stairs and stepping onto the dock.
He’s going to lose this war. He’s just trying to fuck me up by any means necessary, and it won’t work. Because he’s right. I don’t need anyone.
And I’m not trying to put on a facade.
I care about people—my family, my friends—but shit happens, and you have to deal with it. People disappoint you, they betray you, and they die. If your existence relies on being loved and needing comfort from others, then you can’t mean much to yourself, can you?
My father made terrible decisions to keep my mother alive, and she gave him complete control. Their story isn’t unique, either. How many people are one heartbreak or death or abandonment away from self-destruction?
The only consolation in all of this is that even if Callum gets what he thinks he wants, he still won’t have me. In time, he’ll be his father, and I will have been long gone from Sanoa Bay.
He’ll marry and enter an endless stream of charity dinners, credit card bills, and socializing with fake people only made bearable by the fuckboys he hides away who only want his money, just like his wife and kids.
My throat swells, my eyes water, and I nearly fall, grabbing a dock piling to steady myself.
I bite back the cough caught in my throat, damn near gasping. “What the fuck?” I breathe out.
His life is laid out before me in my head, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Fuck.
Goddammit. What the hell do I care? He’s going to get everything he deserves.
Hurrying to my sister’s car, I yank open the door and climb in. As soon as I’m seated, she shifts into reverse and speeds out of the lot, toward home.
I don’t even look at her as I turn up her radio and blast the music. Thankfully, she can read my mood. I half suspect she provoked me tonight for ulterior motives that have nothing to do with vengeance on Callum Ames. She’s never been one to hold a grudge. I mean, she’s marrying her high school bully, for Christ’s sake.
By the time we make it back to the house, Macon’s truck is back, and I spot the flicker of the fire pits around the pool.
Clay’s Bronco sits next to my Supra.
“Shit,” Liv mumbles. “I thought she was working late.”
Walking around the garage to the pool, we hear shouting before we even see who’s there.
“What were we supposed to do?” Macon barks.
Liv and I emerge from the trees to see Clay and Krisjen standing waist-deep in the pool, margaritas in their hands.