Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
“He’s going home with me alone,” Rory says with a finality even she doesn’t argue with.
“Fine. Just leave me alone again like you always do.” The door slams behind her, and I force myself not to get out of bed and attempt to fix it. Why do I always feel like I need to fix everything for her?
Rory rolls on top of me, grabs my arms, holding them against the mattress to pin me down. He looks wild and frazzled, like he’s pissed, but maybe turned on too. “She is not your responsibility.”
But she is and always will be.
“I didn’t say I was going home with you.”
“You are.” He bites my bottom lip, a sharp, burning pain stinging where his teeth bit in, but all it does is make my dick throb, my morning wood changing into something else.
Still, I make myself say, “I might be your pet in some ways, but not all of them.”
“Are you telling me you’re not going home with me?” he asks, rolling his hips, his erection caressing mine.
Pleasure shoots up my spine, and I have to fight myself not to let my eyes roll back.
“That’s what I thought. You’re allowed to have a life too.”
“Her whole life has been me.”
He frowns. “Has it? She kept you, yes, but has her whole life been about you?”
I turn my head, not having it in me to answer that.
Rory surprises me by leaning down more slowly this time, his tongue swiping at the spot he’d bitten. “You’re bleeding.”
“Did you literally just lick my blood?” I ask, and he shrugs before rolling off me.
“Bring clothes for a few days.” His stomach growls. “Fuck, I’m hungry.”
“We can eat here.”
“No, I just want to go.”
“You don’t think Cillian will be pissed if we decide to…what? Have a sleepover?”
“I know Cillian will be pissed. Tiernan too, which is who we really need to worry about, but I’m doing it anyway.”
And that…does something to me, hits something inside me, finds little nooks and crannies I didn’t know were there. Rory is risking an argument with the people he loves most in the world because he wants to be around me. He woke up, and the first thought on his mind was about me, taking me home with him. No one has ever wanted me like that, no one has ever thought of me the way he does—even the shit with my mom. I can feel him biting back what he wants to say to her, because of me, and fuck, does it feel good to have someone crave me that way.
“You can trust me,” I tell him. “They can trust me.”
He grabs his underwear off the floor, watching me as he pulls them on. “Good. I don’t want to have to kill you.”
But he would. Another thing that should make me walk away, but I won’t. It doesn’t even make me want to. I respect that Rory would do whatever is necessary to keep his family safe.
“I wouldn’t make it easy on you,” I tease.
“I know, but I’m good. No offense, pet, but if I didn’t want you to, you wouldn’t even see me coming.” He tugs his pants on next. “Bring your guitar, or whatever else valuable you have. If she sells your shit, I won’t be happy.”
Yeah, well, that makes two of us.
I get out of bed and get dressed. Rory follows me to the bathroom, taking a piss while I brush my teeth. It feels like something couples do, and when I’m done and go to take a piss, he surprises me by picking up my toothbrush and using it.
“That’s gross.”
“You’ve had your tongue in my mouth and on my cock. It’s going to be in my asshole. I can use your toothbrush.”
He has a point.
We head back to my room, and I pack a few days’ worth of clothes, my toiletries, and grab my guitar. It’s already noon, Rory and I having slept in after being up so late last night. “Are we taking my car?”
“Do you want to leave it here for your mom?”
I hesitate. Giving her transportation isn’t smart, but I don’t want her stuck here for days either. “Yeah.”
“Bunny only had morning classes today. I’ll have him come and get us. My car is at home.”
He calls Ollie, and then we wait in the living room. The room is full of smoke, Mom with a cigarette in her hand, sitting in the corner of the couch.
“Are you really leaving me?” she asks, her eyes glassy.
My heart squeezes. “Not forever. Jesus, Mom. You’re the one who said I need friends. I’m trying to have friends.”
Rory’s leaning against the wall, watching us, arms crossed. I try to ignore him as I sit beside her, run my fingers through her hair, then cup her cheek. “I’ll never leave you. It’s you and me, remember?” It always has been and always will be.