Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“Maybe you could try it. For me,” I added.
Stupidly.
Like this woman would be tempted to do anything for my sake alone.
For a moment, Livia seemed to consider it. But she shook her head again and picked up her pen. “Not today.”
I couldn’t fight the flood of disappointment that overtook me, but I battled through the rush of water, undeterred.
“That’s fine,” I said, standing. I rounded her desk and took her pen from her hand.
“Hey!”
“But I think you’re done working for today.”
She cocked a brow at my audacity, the Domme inside her firing up instantly. “Oh, is that so, Rookie? Since when do you call the shots?”
“Since I walked into this office and saw my girl stretched past her limits and drowning.”
Livia opened her mouth, but her brows softened, and not a single word came out.
“Nothing has changed. You’re still the one who leads when it comes to us. But…” I leaned a hip against her desk, close enough to catch the faint trace of her perfume. “Maybe you could let me take the wheel for a little while — just enough to get you out of your head.”
Her eyes narrowed, but not in that sharp, cut-me-down way she had. This was softer. Cautious. “You want me to… give you control?”
“Not all of it,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “Just a piece. Give me the part of your world that’s weighing you down right now. Let me carry it for you for the rest of the day. I’m not here to boss you around. I just…” I trailed off, shrugging. “I just want to help you breathe again.”
For a long moment, she studied me, her pen still laying where I’d set it down. I could see the war happening behind her eyes — one side all logic and walls, the other tempted by the promise of letting someone else hold the rope for once.
Finally, she tilted her head. “What do you have in mind?”
The way she asked it wasn’t pure suspicion. There was a thread of curiosity in there, too.
I grinned. “I guess you’ll have to say yes to find out.”
A Real Gem
Livia
The water was so clear it looked from another planet, like we were gliding over liquid diamond, the sunlight fracturing on the surface in flashes of silver and gold. Below, the sandy bottom rippled with light, fish darting between long ribbons of eelgrass that swayed in the gentle current.
It was warm up here, the late-afternoon sun soaking into my bare skin, but the air carried the kiss of the icy springs, cooling me just enough that my shorts and slouchy long sleeve felt perfect. The neckline had slipped off one shoulder, the fabric fluttering every time the wind shifted.
I trailed my fingers over the top of the water, letting it glide between them, cool and silken. Each breath I took seemed to carry a little more of my stress away — blown off on the breeze, dissolved into the glassy river. Being at Weeki Wachee Springs on a weekday afternoon like this meant the water was mostly ours, save for the occasional bird gliding overhead or the soft hum of insects hiding in the moss-draped trees. The branches swayed, their shadows stretching and dancing across the surface, dappling my skin in shifting patterns of light and dark
With every ripple, every chirp, every lazy push of the paddle, I felt my shoulders loosen. My mind, for the first time in weeks, was quiet.
“I see why you like this,” I admitted softly, peeling my gaze from the water to Carter. He was floating on his own board next to mine, his muscular legs folded beneath him, abs gleaming in the sunlight.
“Peaceful, isn’t it?” he asked, using his paddle to guide his board. We didn’t really have to paddle much now that we’d turned downstream. The first half of our paddle was all upstream, and that had been the first relief of the trip — slipping into a quiet workout, arms pumping, abdomen fired up to stabilize me as we made our way.
My mind had still been racing at the beginning, but the farther we went, the quieter it became.
“It is,” I mused. “Reminds me of the way I feel when I’m making jewelry.”
“Really? I feel like I’d be too focused to relax, working with those tiny pieces of metal.”
“I think that’s why I can relax,” I said with an easy smile, one that felt like I was shaking off rust. “I’m so zeroed in on crafting that I don’t have room in my brain to think of anything else. I get lost in the movements, and before I know it… it’s like meditation.”
“I’d like to see more of what you’ve made,” Carter offered. “If you’ll show me.”
“I noticed you wear a ring.”
He held up his pinky, wiggling it. “I do, indeed. It’s been passed down through the gentlemen in my family since my great-great-grandfather. Dad gave it to me when I got drafted.”