Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 125681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 628(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 419(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 628(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 419(@300wpm)
“When I know that deep down inside of your heart, you don’t want to escape.”
“I want a life with no handcuffs. No rope. No fear of you.”
“I can give that to you.”
“And I want. . .college and Quin and. . .I don’t know what else.”
“Of course. I know that Quin and you are a packaged deal, but there’s one thing I won’t allow.”
“What?”
“No more dancing.” Anger etched the corners of his eyes. “No one else can see how beautiful you are when you’re naked or just how skilled you are when moving your curvy body.”
“That’s fine. I planned on stopping anyway.”
“Good.”
I closed my eyes.
“Phoenix?”
The cliff appeared in front of me.
Cain’s voice sounded off in the distance. “What’s going on in your mind?”
My fingers shook.
I peered over the edge. “I’m thinking about jumping.”
Excitement laced his next words. “Do it. Jump.”
“I’m scared.”
“That’s normal with how we started.”
A cold chill raced down my spine.
Why am I so fucked up? Why do I desperately want to believe him?
I poked the edge of the cliff with my toe. Dirt and rocks crumbled and fell.
Can I do it? Should I do it?
I took a long gulp of air, braced myself, and jumped.
Chapter 25
The Impalement Arts
PHOENIX
A
fter jumping into the idea of us, we made out like teenagers. Our hands and mouths roamed, grasping for pleasure and heat. He kissed me. My mouth. My neck. The tip of my nose. Each cheek.
I rubbed my hands along his sides, tracing his ribs, his muscles, his waist, his dick. He was so hot under my fingers, burning. I could feel his muscles tensing with each touch, his body trying to get closer, trying to melt into me.
Cain inhaled my neck, caressing the curve with his lips and then biting the sensitive skin with his teeth. Moaning, I arched my back and pressed my breasts against his chest.
Then suddenly he pulled away and I almost begged him to return.
Lust blazed in his eyes. “Let’s take our time tonight.”
“But, I’m still getting dick?”
“It’s all yours.” He ran his fingers through my hair. “But. . .”
I widened my eyes. “What?”
“You need to get to know the other parts of me.”
I quirked my brows. “Besides your dick?”
He grinned. “Yes.”
“Sure, but dick is also important too—”
“Phoenix.” He licked his lips. “Let me do this right.”
“Do what right?”
“Romance you. Court you. Earn the right to have you all the ways I want to.” He moved away, grabbed Moby Dick, fluffed his pillow, and leaned back into a comfortable position. “We’ve got a lot going on, but allow me to show you what life with me could truly be.”
I fixed my shirt. “O-kay.”
“You need to understand something.”
“What?”
“There will be more to us than. . .blood and knives.”
“Like what?”
“Companionship. Love in the purest form. Adventure. Loyalty.” With one big arm, he gathered me close to him and put the leather bound book on his lap. “And books.”
I grinned. “You’re going to read to me?”
“Would you like that?”
I leaned against his chest. “I’ve not had anyone read to me in a long time, not since my mother when I was a little girl.”
“Then, let’s see if you still like it.” Cain opened the book, cleared his throat, and began reading.
I found that I loved every second of it.
When he narrated, the story unfolded before my eyes. I could walk within the setting.
Cain didn’t simply read Moby Dick. He moved his hands through the air like a conductor, breathing life into the characters on the page. He performed the story, giving every character different voices. I giggled a few times when he voiced the only two female characters in the story—Ms. Hussey and Aunt Charity.
When he came close to the third act, I battled with keeping my eyes open. Every cell in my body yearned to know what would happen to Ahab next.
Will he get his revenge?
But, sleep took over. Without realizing it, slumber swallowed me up. My dream came alive—bright and vivid like a movie.
I found myself in a massive circus tent. It was a cathedral made of thick cloth. A huge dome of black and white.
Merry-go-round music played in the background.
Somehow I was in the ring where everyone was supposed to perform.
The lights in the tent were dim, allowing a bright spotlight to draw out the details whenever it landed on an object.
But it didn’t fall on me.
It was dark where I was.
“Where am I?” I tried to move and realized I was secured to a large, circular, wooden board. Leather straps kept my wrists and ankles attached. My legs were spread out wide. My arms were secured above my heads. I tried to jerk my arms free. “What the hell?”
I gazed around.
Hundreds of people sat in their seats and watched me.
“Am I the entertainment?”
The air thickened with enticing scents—buttery popcorn, funnel cake, roasting hot dogs, and the sweetness of cotton candy.