The Image of You Read Online Melanie Moreland

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, Drama, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
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She lifted her face to me, her eyes filled with wonder. “How can I be furious? You stood up to my mother and Ronald. In a way I’ve never seen anyone stand up to them before. You did it on their level.” She shook her head. “In a room full of their peers, you…claimed me.”

“I can work a room.”

“You’re shameless.”

“No. I’m in love with you. I want everyone to know you’re mine. They can either accept it or get the fuck out of the way.”

“They’ll never accept it.”

Slipping my fingers under her chin, I dropped a kiss on her sweet mouth. “I know this is going to explode around us. I only wanted to come tonight and let them see I exist. I didn’t plan the whole pissing contest with your mother.”

“What changed?”

“Seeing you. You weren’t beside me. I couldn’t touch you. He could, and I hated it. He can talk to you, act like you belong to him, but you don’t.” I slid my hands down her arms, pulling her closer. “You’re mine, Ally. You belong with me.”

“Yes, I do.”

“You’re not angry?”

“No. I’ll be summoned soon, though.”

“I’ll go with you. You don’t have to face them alone.”

“You’d do that?”

“I’d do anything for you.”

I held her tight. “We’ll do this together.” I snorted. “Or I can call Elena. She’ll set them straight in a fucking heartbeat.”

“Elena adored you. I could see her talking to you.”

“I like her. She’s wicked. She likes my ink.” I winked. “I think the old gal fancies me a little.”

Ally giggled. “I don’t blame her. You’re pretty hot stuff, Mr. Kincaid.”

“Can I take you home?”

“Yes.”

“My home?”

“Can I use my key?”

I tucked her under my arm. “Yes.”

“Could we–could we stop and get a pizza?”

I had seen how little she ate at dinner.

I nestled her closer. “Absolutely. Extra cheese?”

“Yes.”

“No utensils,” I bargained.

“I might get messy.”

I lowered my head, my lips brushing her ear. “I’ll lick it off you.”

She shivered. “No utensils,” she agreed.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

CHAPTER

TWELVE

Ally’s phone chimed again, but this time, it was a different sound than usual. Bradley and her mother had tried several times to reach her since we’d left the gala last night, but she ignored them all. She glanced over from her spot in my arms, frowning.

“You need that?”

“That’s Vivian. She may need me to cover a shift.”

Reluctantly, I handed it to her. I didn’t want her going in, but I knew I had no voice in the matter. She read the screen and rolled her eyes.

“What?”

“She’s reminding me about my lieu time.”

“What about it?”

“The fact that I need to take some.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes. This happens every year, but my old boss let it slip. Vivian insists on me taking time off. She was horrified at the amount of time I had accumulated when she took over as head of the ER.”

“Why don’t you take your time?”

She sat up, looking out the window. “There never seems to be any point. I don’t have the money to travel or anyone to travel with. I went with Elena once on a brief trip to New York, but she likes her own kind of thing.” She sighed. “Mostly playing cards and gossiping with her cronies. I hated sitting around the apartment. I take a few days every so often when Vivian demands, and I play tourist here, but that’s about it.”

I sat up, running my fingers along her arm. I leaned in and kissed her V of freckles. “Take some time then—now. With me.”

She looked over, puzzled. “What?”

“Take a week off. We can take some road trips on the bike, sleep in, eat out, and get some time with each other.”

“What about your job?”

I grinned. I’d had another stretch of time here—something rare, but I was pleased to extend it. “I’ll shock the hell out of Sean and tell him I’m taking some time off. If anything happens, he can get someone else.”

Excitement lit up her eyes. “Really? They can do that?”

“Yes. Can they get someone to cover for you?”

She clutched her phone. “I’ll ask.”

We had days of nothing but us. Rides on the bike. Sleeping in. Late meals. Making love. Talking. Ally’s smiles were bright and contagious. I took endless photos of her. Smiling, laughing, sleeping, even crying while we watched some terrible chick flick she insisted we needed to see. I had captured all her emotions and the way her brilliant eyes projected them. The hues transformed all the time, and I wanted to catalog the changes.

Today, we were having a picnic. She had cooked all morning, while I attempted to help. I was kicked out of the kitchen, after being told in no uncertain terms that trying to fuck her on the counter did not constitute “help.”

I did it anyway.

She was too sexy, wearing one of my shirts, with her hair piled on her head, and her bare feet thumping on the floor as she moved around, humming softly to herself. Around her ankle was one of my leather wristbands. I had slipped it on while she slept, the caveman in me liking how she now had a piece of me on her body. When she woke up, she had lifted her leg, the black of the leather a dark stripe on her ivory skin, and studied it, running her fingers around the thin circlet, then she smiled. She knew what it meant to me to see it on her.


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