Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
His legs widen as he sinks back into his chair.
I spent so much time trying to prove to him that he wasn’t my target, that he was real to me, that I missed the most important detail of all. He may be my exception, but what if I’m not his?
The thought leaves a coat of acid on my tongue, and I continue for my bedroom, putting as much distance between us as I can when I pass him.
His fingers catch mine, igniting a riptide of heat that travels right to my toes.
“Hey.” The gentleness in his tone gives me whiplash.
I tense, and his mouth snaps closed. He noticed.
“You think I fucking like this?” He tugs my finger, forcing me to look down at him.
I rip my hand free, but he catches it again, eyes narrowing.
Seconds crawl between us.
“And what exactly is this?” I snap, emotional intelligence bottoming out.
He doesn’t answer.
Words die in my throat, and every second his hand holds mine the burn only deepens.
I pull away again, and this time he lets me. Before he can say something that’ll leave me purring in his lap like a pathetic fucking house cat, I rush down the hall and shoulder past Atlas. The bedroom door clicks shut behind me as my back hits the wood.
My head thumps against it, once, twice.
I hate this. I want out.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I start counting backward from twenty.
With one step left between me and the door, it flies open. Asher kicks it shut behind him. The slam drowns out whatever Atlas was shouting down the hall.
Coming closer, he tilts his head. “I know why I’m mad, but why the fuck are you mad?”
“Why am I mad?” Fire rushes through my veins. I dig my fingers into my palms before I finally fucking swing. “Maybe because why the fuck am I here, Asher?”
He leans back against the door with a low exhale, his gaze never leaving me. “You know why.”
I spread my arms wide, sarcasm coating every word. “Oh, because you want revenge?” I hold them there. “Then here. Have at it. Get your revenge, but make it fucking quick.”
His jaw tightens, a muscle ticking along it. Taking its time, his gaze travels over me as warmth licks across every inch it touches.
My voice breaks. “I can’t do this, Asher.” I swallow. “I told you. I wasn’t pretending. It was all real. Parker was my job, has been since I was a fucking child.”
I stop. Shit. The word vomit really needs to chill.
Clearing my throat, I shift my weight back, but he’s already closing the distance.
He takes his time between each word. “What do you mean?”
My gaze snaps to his. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”
He lifts his hand, but I step back, the space between us charged with tension.
“You were real,” the admission is rough, like my body tried to force it back down. “I never—”
His shoulders draw tight as his features harden.
Pressing my lips together, I try to do what I was trained to do. Shut the fuck up. Only I’ve never been able to do that around him.
Asher steps in close enough that I have to tip my chin up.
“Never what?” His hand flexes at his side, blue eyes fixed on my mouth like he can drag the rest out of me if he really wanted.
“I never...” I start again, quieter this time, and the admission is right there, a secret I can’t take back once I let it out.
Before I can get away, his arm clamps around my lower back, dragging me against his chest. His other hand finds my cheek, his thumb circling a path of fire across my skin.
“In all that time we spent together,” he lets the silence stretch, his thumb still branding my cheek, “did I ever give you the impression I’d put you in danger?”
My breath catches before I let it go, shaking my head. “No,” I answer honestly, twisting to get free of his arms. “But people are never as they seem.”
He pins me with a glare. “Clearly.”
My feet leave the floor as he hauls me up, my legs locking around his waist. He backs up until the table hits my lower back, setting me on its edge as the shelves close around us.
“But why the fuck...” His mouth brushes mine, tongue tracing my bottom lip. “...do you like monsters?”
“What?” I gasp.
Is he talking about Parker? What the fuck does he know?
He shakes his head, mouth pressed into a straight line.
“Asher.” It’s a plea. A plea to give me something. Anything. Before I either for real kill him or do something stupid that I might regret. Again.
“You have to trust me, Venom.” His gaze holds mine as his thumb drags across my collarbone and dips beneath the strap of my top. The touch is light, almost absent.
“You still wanna fight?” His finger traces my lower lip, then pushes into my mouth. “Or you gonna shut the fuck up and ride me?”