Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 157162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
My chest seemed to weigh a thousand pounds as it crushed against my heart, lungs, all my vital organs as I stood in Elliot’s arms.
“I’ll prove this isn’t a bad decision, Calliope,” he murmured gently.
My body was struggling to stay upright and continue functioning under the power of the look he was giving me, the intimacy behind it. So I didn’t speak. Didn’t need to. Surely, he was going to kiss me, and then I wouldn’t have to fill this silence with words I wasn’t practiced in. Words I wasn’t capable of.
I was going to die if he didn’t kiss me. His face was inches away. My eyes were already heavy in preparation.
But he didn’t. He stepped back, grabbing hold of my hand and pulling me down the cobbled path of his front yard.
I’d only properly registered that he was dressed in another cable-knit sweater—this one a dark navy—a beanie, curls escaping from the sides, faded jeans and some tennis shoes. He looked exceptionally effortless, masculine and attractive. He was obviously getting ready to go somewhere when I arrived. And had I pulled in just a few minutes later, he might not have been here. I might’ve been able to fortify my shields and form concrete resolutions to stay away from him.
A slow vehicle in front of me, a fender bender, a fucking deer on the road… All things that might’ve saved me from this decision. My watertight belief that there was no such thing as fate was starting to leak.
It took a handful of Elliot’s long strides for me to gain my bearings. We were not heading to his truck but along a well-worn path that led to the woods that bordered his house.
“Where are we going?” I demanded.
As much as I enjoyed Elliot taking control in sexual situations, I didn’t like him literally leading me into the woods for reasons unknown. Unless those reasons were fucking in the dirt. And it was cold. It had rained last night, so the ground was too muddy for that.
“For a walk,” Elliot stated blandly, as if it was obvious. As if us going on a fucking walk after one of the most pivotal points in my life was second nature.
“A walk?” I tried to pull my hand from his grip, but he only tightened his fingers.
I could’ve tried to plant my feet on the ground like an unruly toddler, but I wasn’t ready to get that undignified, and I liked Elliot’s warm, dry hand in mine. The crunch of dirt under my shoes, the light filtering through the canopy of the trees.
“We’re not having sex?” Despite all of the nice things, none measured up to sex with Elliot.
I’d set this whole fucking forest on fire if it meant sex with Elliot.
I felt his low, throaty chuckle in my lower belly. “We’ll be having a lot of sex, Calliope.” He glanced at me, dark and hungry. “I may take you right here in the dirt if I feel like it.”
My body rejoiced at him verbalizing what I’d dismissed only minutes ago. I instantaneously changed my mind. Who cared about a little bit of mud?
“I’m in charge,” he reminded me as he kept our pace. “You coming here was agreeing to that, was it not?”
I pursed my lips together, not doubting my decision for a moment. Because instead of stoking the fire of feminism in my body by suggesting he was in charge of me, it only served to electrify my salacious nerve endings.
"I'm going to fuck you good, Calliope,” he continued. “But you made me wait three days. So I’m gonna make you wait just a little. I’m going to make you go on a walk with me.” He paused, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. “I may make you beg.”
Again, in theory, such a statement should’ve filled me with revulsion. Not bone-clenching need. Every cell in my body swelled at the thought of begging Elliot.
I swallowed thickly, keeping up with him as he walked us through what I assumed was his path through the woods. His property spanned about an acre. The rest of it was state land, some nature preserve or another.
I’d already done my due diligence on Elliot. I knew about the mortgages he had on this place, the debt he’d accrued to cover Clara’s medical bills, to keep their fishing and restaurant businesses afloat. Elliot was barely making ends meet. He was struggling. Yet there hadn’t been even a crease of worry between his brows as long as I’d known him.
“How is she?” I blurted. “Clara?”
If Elliot thought it was odd for me to be asking about his niece when we’d been discussing me begging him to fuck me moments ago, he didn’t show it.
His expression switched back to tender, loving uncle mode. I liked that almost as much as the hungry Dom.