Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
“Okay.” I yawn. “But I can’t promise I won’t fall asleep.”
“I’ll put you back to bed.”
It’s such a simple reassurance, but it wraps me in a cocoon of safety.
Despite all his warnings, I do trust this man.
As he carries me into the bathroom, I notice he seems stiffer than usual, and it feels like he has a slight limp.
I want to ask him about it, but I know he’ll just deflect, so I don’t.
When he steps into the tub and slowly withdraws from my body, I feel his cum leaking down my thighs.
He was right that he filled me up, and there’s something insanely hot about that.
He lowers us both into the basin and drags his fingers through the mess with a low groan.
“You like that?” His lips brush against my ear.
I nod against him, melting into his touch.
“Good,” he murmurs. “Because this belongs to me, Gabriela.”
His words soak into my skin, warming the most neglected part of me—the need to be wanted.
It soothes some of those jagged wounds that still live inside me, but it doesn’t come without a painful reminder. This is all I ever wanted with Romeo. I couldn’t imagine a life where I wasn’t bound to him in some way. But that hope died a slow, agonizing death, and I swore I’d never let it breathe again. I just don’t know how I’m supposed to do that when his is the only face I imagine as Eros lays claim to me.
I can’t stop searching for signs and comparing the two of them, and I don’t know if it’s guilt—or that my heart already knows what my mind refuses to accept.
As Eros fills the tub with warm water and settles me against him, I release myself from the prison of my mind, if only temporarily.
He takes care of me the way he always does, washing me and massaging the tension from my body. As my eyes grow heavy and I start to drift off, only one thought remains.
I don’t want this to end.
The sound of the shades opening pulls me from sleep and floods the room with light.
I let out a groan and roll over to glare at the offending party, only to find her looking far too happy for this time of day.
“Morning, sunshine,” Chantel sings. “We’ve got fun on the agenda.”
I throw the covers over my head.
“Oh my God,” she shrieks. “Who’s that hot guy in your bed?”
I toss the covers off in a panic, only to glance over and see that Eros is not actually here.
“Ha, I knew it.” Chantel smirks. “You did have a hot guy in your bed.”
“I need caffeine if we’re going to do this.”
“Did you think I came unprepared?” She nods at the nightstand.
I glance over and perk up when I see the layered drink cup from my favorite bakery. “Ooh, mango matcha.”
“I thought that might do the trick.” She laughs as I sit up and take a sip. “Cute PJ’s, by the way.”
I look down, realizing I didn’t actually dress myself after the bath, but apparently Eros did.
I’m wearing a pair of pink shorts and a cropped T-shirt that reads: You’re Cute When You Scream. I’ve never seen this set before, so he must have bought it for me.
“Where’d you get it?” Chantel asks. “Is it from the same person who left you that?”
I follow her gaze to the black gift box on my dresser.
It has to be from him.
“So.” Chantel rocks back on her heels. “Are we going to look?”
I bite my lip and nod, and she retrieves it for me while Beppe pokes his head out from the blankets to see what all the fuss is about. He blinks up at Chantel with sleepy eyes and comes over for a cuddle when she sits down beside me.
I set my drink aside and reach for the box between us, lifting the lid with a nervous flutter in my belly. As soon as I see the different-colored spines, I gasp.
“Are they all the same book?” Chantel asks.
“Yes.” I set them in my lap, examining them one by one. “They’re all the special editions of Pride and Prejudice I don’t have yet.”
“Well, that’s romantic,” she croons.
My face heats a little as I try to shut down that possibility—mostly for my benefit.
“It’s not romance. This is just what he does. He notices things, and he likes to give me gifts.”
“I bet he does.” Her eyes twinkle with amusement. “Are we going to talk about that night at the carnival or pretend it didn’t happen?”
I consider it for a moment before I decide. “You get one question.”
“How was it?”
“Amazing,” I answer with a dreamy sigh, which really isn’t helping my case that this isn’t a romantic thing.
“Well, I’m glad you had fun.” She leans over and glances inside the box. “It looks like there’s still something in there.”