Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Does she realize yet how much power she holds over me? Will she use it to annihilate me? I don't know yet. I think she's on the verge of falling for me, but she's scared.
Can't say I blame her, not with the shit her mother put her through. She's built her whole life around that fear, using it to drive her. And I'm a bossy, autocratic motherfucker. I've always been that way. Zayne is the pain in the ass. Gideon's the peacekeeper. And I'm the one who craves control. I'd almost forgotten how much until I stood before her yesterday, staring at my future.
"I was sleeping," she says. "But you're basically a freaking furnace, and you were poking me." Her eyes drift down my body, letting me know exactly what she means.
I wrap my fist around my erection, letting her have a good look. "You could crawl back up in this bed and help me handle the problem."
"It looks like you have it handled well enough, Zion."
I growl at her, which only makes her smile grow.
"I thought I was cranky in the morning, but wow. You're really a grump."
"You're the one who kept me up all night."
"I did not."
"You were moaning my name and grinding that perfect ass all over me, Makenzie. How the fuck is a man supposed to sleep with a goddess all over his dick?"
She blushes bright red.
"Oh, so now you're shy?"
"No. I'm trying to remember why I decided not to smother you with a pillow last night," she says sweetly, batting her lashes at me.
"Because I wore your ass out letting you use my face as your own personal cum rag?"
"Oh, my God. You're filthy."
"You love it."
She huffs, flinging her toothbrush around like she's wielding a deadly weapon. "Get dressed. We have things to do today."
I sit upright, my hand falling from my cock. "If you think you're dragging me to another party today, think again, baby." One party a year is my limit. Especially if it means letting other motherfuckers gawk at her. Hell no. Been there, did that. Damn near murdered everyone.
"It's not a party."
"What is it?"
"You'll see." She beams at me. "Out of bed and on your feet, Marine. You've got orders." She ducks back into the bathroom, leaving me staring after her. Her quiet laughter floats back to me.
I drag my ass out of bed, leaving my hearing aid on the bedside table. I don't bother with clothes as I follow her into the bathroom. She's at the sink by the time I get there, putting way too much toothpaste—which she squeezes from the middle of the tube—on her toothbrush.
I pluck both from her hands.
"Hey! I was using that."
"Not anymore." I set them on the counter before stripping my shirt off over her head.
"If you wanted it back, all you had to do was ask," she huffs, slapping her wild hair out of her face to scowl at me.
"Don't want it back." I lace my hand through hers, pulling her across the small space to the walk-in shower. "We're showering."
"I'm not showering with you."
"Yeah, you are." I reach in to start the water, chuckling as she threatens to drown me. She must have slept well last night. She's feisty as hell this morning. But when I hold open the door for her to step into the shower, she steps right in. She grumbles under her breath the whole time, but she doesn't tell me no.
She hasn't used that word a single time with me. She's bitched and complained and threatened my life about eight different ways, but the only time she's flat out said no was when it came to putting cameras in the house. Every other time, she's danced around the word, carefully avoiding it.
She's more than capable of making her own decisions and taking care of herself. She's capable of standing up for herself and deciding what she will and won't allow. But she lets me order her around because on some level, she knows that I've got her. She knows that she's safe with me and that I won't make her do anything she doesn't truly want to do or take more than she's willing to give. She's desperate to put down the burden for a little while and just be Makenzie…and I'm the lucky motherfucker she trusts to hold it all up for her.
I have to duck to fit under the showerhead. It's too short, which brings her great pleasure. Every time I have to squat, her smile grows.
"We're getting a new showerhead," I growl.
"I like this one."
"Of course you do."
She squirts some fruity smelling bodywash all over me. "Oops. It slipped."
I back her up against the wall, earning a squeal. "That's cold, Zion!"
"You'll survive." I nip her throat and then her collarbone, slipping my hand between her legs. "If you wanted me to smell like you, all you had to do was ask. I'd have hit my knees lickety-split, angel baby."