Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“Talk to me.”
"I wish I wasn't married. In my heart I’m not. I…I left him. And I’d rather die than go back.”
That wasn't what I wanted to say.
His eyes turn stormy. "Your husband doesn't deserve you.”
I stare up at him. I can’t really comprehend the words he’s saying. I hear them, but the actual acceptance of what he’s telling me… that I’m worthy of love, that someone who hurts me doesn’t deserve me…
"I shouldn’t have said that. It’s wrong for me to say that. I shouldn’t —”
"I want you to stop saying that."
I regard him curiously. “What?”
“Shouldn’t. This is wrong. You question your goodness and motives with regularity, and I want that to stop.”
I stare at him. Well, then.
“You are as efficient and accomplished at bringing yourself down as you are cooking. It's your specialty. And when you're with me, I won't allow it."
When I’m… with him.
I am oh so familiar with words like obey and allow, but this feels so different…
“Look again at those people down there, Eden.”
I do what he says. I look at a man cradled to a woman’s breasts. I see another man stroking the cheek of a woman entwined in ropes, and another laughing with abandon, her arms thrown in the air like she’s just accomplished an enormous feat. I see Quinn, standing on a stage, her chin lifted and her stance proud.
I see a woman… a very small, petite woman… cradled on a man’s lap. Whatever he says in her ear makes her flush and bite her lip.
“What do you see, Eden?”
My chest rises with an intake of breath. I let it out slowly. “I see… happiness. Belonging. Trust.” I swallow. “I want that, Sergio.”
He strokes his hand chastely through my hair. “I haven't punished you yet, but if there's anything that's going to get you over my knee and your ass red, it's not telling me the truth. We do not enter into any of this unless you're honest with me." His voice is husky. His pupils are dilated, and he’s breathing heavily.
My whole life the thought of arousing a man terrified me. Again, this feels… different. I feel empowered. Excited. Wanted.
And this is such different territory for me.
He waits for my response, not pushing me, not prodding. Just waiting.
"It's hard to be honest when I don't even know the emotions I’m feeling myself. I don't really know what words to say sometimes. You said you want nothing but honesty, so that's what I'm going to give you. I've been raised to be a submissive woman, but that's not who I am. I submitted because I was afraid. Because I was told that was the only way to be. But I regret that. I regret not speaking up against what was wrong. And that’s… one of the reasons… why I left."
I look away, because I remember that he doesn't know a lot about where I grew up or what I know.
“Maybe I should start at the beginning."
“I know some. I know who you are and where you came from."
Heat flares across my chest and a thrill of panic arrests me. "How do you know? Who told you?"
If the fellowship knows that I'm gone, if they put out any kind of surveillance to look for me, if my sister’s in danger…
“Mario’s wife Gloria is a private detective. She has resources at her fingertips that lots of people don't have. We did some background searching, and we know that you left the fellowship in North Carolina."
I don’t care that he knows, I don’t care about the legality of it, I want to know if I’m safe. My heart pounds so fast I’m dizzy and my voice comes out in a whisper as I try to focus. "Are they looking for me?"
A darkness flashes in his eyes I haven't seen before. It’s the hint of the danger I’ve been scared about—scared and yet somehow reassured by—because I know the people who would come after me are now his enemies.
He leans in toward me. My nerves are on fire, a mixture of anticipation and excitement, all wound up tight with curiosity and a thread of… longing.
I feel a flutter in my belly as he nears, my heart racing. My mind goes blank, my thoughts vanishing as I’m wrapped in the sensation of the kiss.
The surprising softness and warmth of his lips. The taste of his breath, tinged with mint. The firm pressure of his mouth against mine.
I don’t believe in magic and never have, but I’m beginning to question my premise, because this. Kiss. Is. Magical. With this kiss, Sergio and I have crossed a line from which there is no return. A part of me fears that he doesn’t feel what I do, because the enormity of what I’m going through evokes such a wide range of emotion.