Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 131651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 658(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 658(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
“If you’re trying to make me feel better, stop. I let those assholes get away.” I tear myself away from her, pacing the room awkwardly.
All while my leg screams hellfire, more than I dare admit.
I hate looking weak. Especially in front of the woman I’m supposed to be protecting, who must smell it with every breath.
“I’m telling you the truth,” she whispers.
“You’re trying to make me feel better for a half-assed job. Thanks, but my ego will survive.” I stomp to the window and look outside.
The property is secure and the fog has lifted.
For now.
Ice cuts down my spine at the thought of what might happen next.
I lower my head, letting my forehead rest against the glass.
“Holden,” Cleo says behind me, closer now. “Nothing bad happened. You chased them out. We’re fine.”
I bite back the urge to tell her how not fucking fine it is.
She doesn’t need that.
What she needs is for me to snap the hell out of this haze and do my job just like I did when I was five years younger.
Like the time this punk who was upset over a real estate development in New York almost laid hands on Mr. Blackthorn. I had him on the ground just inches from the old man, tearing the knife from his hand.
I moved faster then. I neutralized threats swiftly and relentlessly. I didn’t leave loose ends.
“You’re so tense—and you really should get that knee looked at,” she says from behind me.
I say nothing.
I just stiffen as she slides her arms around my waist and presses her body against my back.
Damn.
She’s so small against me. If I were in a better mood, I might actually enjoy it despite knowing the risks with that very well.
“Cleo, what are you doing?” I whisper.
“Comforting you. What else?”
“Why?” I snarl.
“Because you’re stressed and tired and hurt.” She rests her cheek against my shoulder. “Because you deserve it for saving us.”
“I don’t deserve shit.”
“Yes.” Her arms never loosen. “Yes, you do, idiot. You can’t be perfect all the time with how unpredictable your career is. They didn’t get away hurting anyone or taking off with the Hera Egg. They lost.”
She shifts again, pressing her ample breasts against my muscle. Even though we’re both fully clothed and not facing each other, lust stabs through my pain.
God-awful timing.
I don’t need to be blueballed and horny on top of everything else.
“I’m fine, woman. Really. Start thinking where you’d like to go to get out of here and I’ll see if it’s an option.”
“You don’t feel fine.” Her thumb swipes my cheek.
I don’t know why she’s so determined to soothe me when it’s the last thing I want.
Hell, everything I want from Nile turns filthier by the day. Infinitely more devastating.
After I’ve tasted her—after I’ve had her mouthy lips on mine—I haven’t been able to pry her peach perfect ass out of my head.
Her lush thighs spread wide, grazing my cock like a feather.
My face between them.
Ripping pleasure from her lungs.
A prelude to pounding her through the nearest surface.
Fuck, I really have lost my mind in this shit show today.
“I have a thought,” she says, pulling back. “Come with me.”
“Clee—”
“Trust me.” She grabs my hand, wrapping it snug in both of hers and pulling. Going with her seems like a better idea than sulking in an empty room with the knee pain from hell, so I give in.
I also don’t think she’d take no for an answer.
She damn near drags me upstairs, not letting go for a second, not even when I have to gingerly take the steps up. I jerk free when she leads us through Leonidas’ old room, into the huge master bathroom.
“Nile, what the hell?”
“Strip,” she says.
I stare at her.
Whole lifetimes go by.
Am I hallucinating now?
She just stares back, two vast unblinking indigo skies. “I know your ears still work, mister. Do it.”
“What’s wrong with you—”
“Holy hell.” Rolling her eyes, she grabs my elbow and hauls me the rest of the way up. “Just your pants, Holden. Your knee, you’re bleeding.”
I look down.
Besides being a creaky bucket of rusty nails, my right knee is a mess of blood. I didn’t even notice.
Didn’t stop to look down when I changed before the cops showed up. Didn’t notice the dark stain slowly seeping through my pants.
“Let me help clean it. Sit down.” She walks over to fetch an old first aid kit from the cabinet that probably hasn’t been touched since her granddad was alive. “And stop glowering. I know you’re too stubborn to go to urgent care. If we just leave it, it could get infected.”
“I can clean a wound. Thanks,” I bite off.
She puts her hands on her hips and sighs.
“If you weren’t here for me, none of this would’ve happened. So let me help with the one little thing I can, okay? Humor me, Holden Hardass.”