Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“Soren.”
“Hmm…” I can tell he’s tired.
Maybe all he wants is someone to sleep next to.
“Why are you really here?”
“I don’t know,” he answers. “But I like that I am.” Without thinking, I take his hand and hold it. He flinches at my touch but doesn’t pull away. His hand squeezes mine, and we lie in complete silence as we both drift off to sleep.
And I hate to admit it.
But it ends up being one of the best nights’ sleep I’ve had since… well, forever.
THIRTY
SOREN
Soren
She’s awake, and she’s trying to wriggle from my hold.
“Just a little longer,” I say sleepily, content to just hold her. Even after she stabbed me, it’s still where I want to be.
“I can’t. Someone’s here,” she whispers and tries to pull away again. This time, I let her go, even though I don’t want to.
She slips out into the hall, and I hear her say, “Noah?”
“Hey. Oliver and I are just popping by to get his tablet. He was upset that he forgot it.”
“Give me a second, okay? I just need to get dressed.” Cressida steps back into the bedroom and shuts the door. She looks around frantically, then scoops up my clothes and throws them in her closet, and points to me. “You. Under the bed. Now,” she whisper-shouts.
“What? No way.”
“Now, Soren.” The words come out in a hiss. “My son is here. And I told you to go home last night.”
Reluctantly, I get out of bed, and her gaze falls to my very hard cock.
“Go.” She waves a hand, and I lower to the floor and climb under her fucking bed like I’m a teenager hiding from her damn parents. My cock hits the underside of the bed, and I have to readjust it before I slide completely under. Just as I get my whole body wedged into the tight space, the door opens, and her son runs in. He throws himself onto her bed and then proceeds to jump on it.
Fuck.
The bed dips with his bouncing, brushing the tip of my cock.
I swear to God if that mattress breaks my cock…
“Did you find your tablet?” Her voice has changed; it’s now sweet and low.
“Yep. Just came to kiss you goodbye.” He hops from the bed, and I see a pair of small sock-covered feet move toward her.
I hear her kiss him, then she says, “All right. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” The sound of another kiss. “I love you.”
“Yep. I love you, too, Mom,” he replies, then hurries out the door. She follows and shuts the door behind them, and I stay under the fucking bed like some kind of criminal.
A shitty criminal at that.
And let’s be real, I’m no amateur criminal.
She has a brief, muffled conversation with her ex-husband before I hear the click of a door. I listen closely for a couple of minutes, unsure if I should get out from under the bed. My ass is getting cold and sore, and I really need to fucking take a piss.
When my phone starts ringing loudly, the bedroom door opens, and I see her feet before she says, “Oh, I forgot you were there. You can come out now. They left like ten minutes ago.”
I shimmy out, and when I get to my feet, she’s standing there, clutching a coffee cup and trying to hold back her smile. She’s failing.
She glances down at my now-deflated cock. “It’s red.” She points to the tip.
“That’s because it was attacked by your mattress,” I reply as I retrieve my clothes from her closet. My phone continues to ring as I get dressed. But I know that ringtone—it’s my sister’s, and the last thing I want to do right now is deal with her.
“Did you have fun?” I ask Cressida.
She chuckles. “Oh, yes. Having you, this big, scary, rich man, hide under my bed, was priceless.” I grunt, to which she replies, “It was your choice to steal my key and break in.”
“I didn’t break in. I walked through the front door.”
“Give me my key back,” she demands, holding out her hand.
“No,” I tell her with a smirk.
“If you break in again, especially while my son is here, I’ll shoot you.”
Her threat doesn’t scare me. “You don’t own a gun.”
She offers me her coffee, and I take it as she walks to her closet. She makes a bit of noise before she steps back out, holding a small handgun, and points it at me.
“I’m impressed,” I tell her.
“You want me to practice my shooting skills on you? I’m sure they’re better than my fork skills.” She winks.
“I’ll take your word for it.” She lowers the gun to her side. “You know how to shoot?”
“Of course I do. I was raised on a farm,” she scoffs.
“Are you actually any good, though?” I step closer to her.
“I bet I’m a better shot than you.” She grins, and I can’t help but lean down until our faces are only inches apart.