Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
The fork makes a strange sound when it slams into his skin, a growl leaves my mouth—“fuck”—and we both stare at it for a few beats. But then I quickly pull my hand away, leaving the fork embedded in his flesh.
“Did you just…” He yanks the utensil from his hand as if it were nothing and holds it up between us. “I think you lost something.” He offers it to me, and I take it. My gaze flicks to the four small puncture wounds that are welling with blood.
He glances down at the fork punctures stark against his skin. His silver eyes lock onto mine, dark and unreadable. “You really don’t want me to stay?” His voice is low, calm only in volume, but edged with something sharp, dangerous, and barely restrained.
“No,” I reply without hesitation.
He leans in just slightly, a slow, deliberate movement. “Why?”
That single word carries more than curiosity; it’s raw, fragile, the faintest crack in his armor. I see it, the vulnerability beneath the hardness. But it’s still there, cold and dangerous, ready to snap if pushed too far.
“Because I don’t have room for crazy in my life right now. I’m raising a son, or did you forget that?”
“He’s with his father,” he tells me, like I don’t already know.
“Yes, and I’m tired. You woke me up,” I remind him. “When Oliver isn’t here, I like to catch up on sleep.”
“Can I sleep with you?” he asks.
“No.” I glance down at his hand and then meet his eyes again. “You should leave.”
“Why?”
“I told you already.”
“No. Why can’t I stay?”
“You’re a smart man, Soren.” Everyone knows how smart he is. He wouldn’t be so successful if he weren’t. “But you have issues that I don’t want to deal with. Namely, your sister.”
He scrubs a hand down his face, then licks his split lip. “She’s a problem, I get that. But she was sick for so long that it came naturally for me to take care of her. We didn’t have anyone else. I’ve raised her since I was eighteen,” he tells me. I knew all this from my research, but hearing him say it out loud is entirely different, like something shifting in the air between us. “I see that I’ve enabled her bad behavior, and I’ve been trying to fix it.”
“Good. Why don’t you focus on that and leave me alone? She thinks I’m the reason for your sudden change of heart when it comes to her.”
“You are.” His voice is steady. Certain. There’s no softness, just a fact laid bare.
My head jerks back in surprise. “What?”
“You are the reason. I realized it because of you.”
The words hang there. I swallow, forcing my voice steady. “Okay, well, don’t tell her that.”
I catch myself staring at his hand, then quickly look away. Something in the way he’s letting me in, the rare crack in his armor, stays with me longer than I want.
“I won’t,” he assures me.
“You aren’t staying,” I remind him. He smirks, and I can’t help but stare at him. He has a busted lip, his hand is bleeding, and he’s still the most handsome man I have ever seen.
Fuck him and his good looks.
“What about a goodnight kiss?” he asks.
“No, thank you. You’re bleeding.”
“I wouldn’t care if you were bleeding.” His gaze drops to my bare thighs.
“That’s disgusting,” I sneer.
“What? It’s extra flavor.”
“Okay, that’s enough! You’re getting out of hand now and need to leave.” I point toward the front door, which is shut and locked. Well, I guess it was nice of him to lock it again after breaking in.
“Just a small goodnight kiss,” he prods as he inches closer. I spot a knife beside the sink, but this time he knows I’m not playing, and he blocks my path to it. “Now, now, Hurricane. No more stabbing your lover.”
“Lover?” I scoff.
“Please, let me stay,” he says again.
“I didn’t know you knew that word.”
“I don’t usually have to use it, so it’s not in my vocabulary,” he admits. This time, when he reaches for me, I let him, and his arm slides around my waist.
“I’m not fucking you. I’m tired and want to sleep,” I inform him.
“I’ll just sleep next to you,” he promises, then leans down and nuzzles into my neck.
Goddammit! It feels good, and it takes me a beat before I push him away.
“No touching either,” I assert.
“I want to hold you,” he argues.
“Fine. Only holding.” I keep giving in, and I can’t help myself.
“Okay.” He drops a kiss behind my ear before he pulls back and leads me to my room.
He releases my hand, and I climb into bed and get under the covers. The lights aren’t on, but I can still see him perfectly as he undresses—first his boots and socks, then his shirt, and lastly his jeans.
In just his boxers, he goes into the bathroom, and I hear the shower run for a few minutes before he comes out with a towel wrapped low around his waist and a bandage on his hand. He pauses, looking at me, before he drops the towel and comes around to my side of the bed. Soren lifts the covers and practically climbs in on top of me. I have to scoot over to make room for him. His arms wrap around me without hesitation, and I let him hold me like the doll he wants me to be.