Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
I glanced down at it, then back at him. “I didn’t know where my clothes were.”
His eyes dropped to the gaping neckline. “I know what I want for dessert.”
I tensed up as he pulled me into the bedroom and toward the sofa, where a large, covered tray sat on the coffee table in front of it.
“I need to go downstairs and get drinks. You want coffee? Juice?” he asked.
“Coffee,” I replied, “but I can go get it.”
He shook his head. “You’re not going downstairs like that. I’ll get it. Cream and sugar?”
I didn’t bother asking about Splenda and almond milk, so I nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”
He took the cover off the tray, revealing two plates sitting there, full of Maeme’s biscuits, bacon, cheese grits, and tomato gravy. On the third plate was four of her thick, fluffy waffles stacked on it.
“Go ahead and get started. I’ll be right back,” he told me before turning and heading for the door.
I watched him go, wondering if any man alive had ever looked that good in jeans. He wore them so well. I’d had sex with him. That gorgeous man…I’d straddled his face. I still couldn’t believe I had done it, but oh wow. That experience had been life-altering. Taking a deep breath, I tried to stop thinking about it. I didn’t want him returning to me looking hot and bothered. He was acting so normal. As if the fact that we had slept together was no big deal. He knew the Mafia had possibly killed Hill and could be after me. He knew I was being hunted, but he was acting as if that wasn’t a fact. Like what we had done was okay.
But then he was a man. He was King. He had sex a lot. I’d seen the lifetime supply of condoms beside his bed. My mood soured as I stared at the bed. How many women had he done those things to in that bed? Or did he tie them up and spank them first? Did he use a belt? A whip? Those things that Christian Grey used? I shook my head. I had to stop this.
I heard his footsteps outside the door, and I reached to pick up a slice of bacon and took a bite before he walked back inside. I was actively chewing when his gaze met mine. God, he had the best eyes.
“Hungry?” he asked as he made his way over to me with two coffee cups in his hands.
I nodded, although that wasn’t true. Not anymore at least.
He set a cup in front of me, then went to take the spot beside me. “We should enjoy this. Tomorrow might be a good Sunday breakfast to miss. Jupiter, my stepmom, is going to be there. She’s annoying as fuck.”
I glanced over at him. “What did you tell Maeme about my staying here?”
He took a waffle and put it on his plate. “That you slept in the bed and I slept on the sofa.”
Maeme wasn’t a stupid woman. What if she knew the truth? Would she ask me to leave?
“I should probably get dressed and walk back to the house once I’m done,” I told him.
He took a bite of the waffle and chewed while looking at me. I tried not to watch the way his jaw worked or the way the muscles in his neck stood out. I had sat on that face. Ugh! I wasn’t going to think about that anymore. I jerked my gaze off his and stared down at the food.
“You in a hurry to get away from me, sweets?”
I reached for my fork and shook my head. “No. It’s not that. I know you have things to do, and I need to get out of the way.” I jabbed at the scrambled eggs nervously.
“I was hoping you’d go for a ride with me. You can ride on Malta. She’s old and slow.”
I stopped attacking the eggs and looked back at him. “She’s a horse.”
He nodded, smirking at me.
“You want to take me horseback riding?”
He stuck a forkful of cheese grits in his mouth and nodded again.
Okay. He didn’t want me to leave. He wanted to spend time with me. Why? I didn’t understand this. What were we doing?
“I have to leave soon,” I told him.
He swallowed. “Not technically. You can sleep in my bed as long as you want.”
I shook my head. “I mean, leave. As in leave the cottage. Figure out where I am going to start over. We”—I waved a finger between the two of us—“shouldn’t be doing this…what we did.”
“We shouldn’t be fucking?” he asked.
I nodded.
He licked his lips, and I found myself watching it as if it were porn. “Why can’t we fuck, sweets? You enjoyed yourself, didn’t you? You liked having my mouth on your pussy? The way you came on my cock said you were having a real good time.”