Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“I care what you want and what you think, unlike most people in your life. You think that guy out there gives a single shit about you? I care more than your grandfather does, I bet. I’d never let you anywhere near a weak little child such as Matthew Keynes if you were mine. No, you need someone much bigger and stronger than him. Someone that can handle you.”
“Oh, yeah? Someone like you?” She stares up into my eyes and a smile quirks my lips.
“Exactly like me.”
“You’re so full of yourself.” She shakes her head. “And it’s not attractive.”
“I think you’re lying. I think you can’t get that kiss out of your head. You like a man that pursues you because he wants you.”
“You don’t want me, that’s the problem. You think I’m convenient, and honestly? That’s not very attractive.”
“Say the word and I’ll gladly show you exactly how badly I want you right now, Katherine.” I feel a shiver run down my spine and I know it’s true. I’d risk getting banned for life from the Oak if it meant running my tongue along her wet, dripping pussy and listening to her moan.
“Sorry, Ford, but I’m getting back to my date.”
She goes to leave but I reach out and grab her arm. Fuck this, I’m not finished with her yet. I hold on tightly and pull her back to me, and something flashes in her eyes. It’s fear, but it’s also excitement, and now we’re standing close and alone in the waiting room, and I want to bury my mouth on hers, dominate her lips with my own, part her teeth with my tongue and taste her until I’ve had my fucking fill. Except I don’t think I could ever have my fill of a woman like this.
“Let me go,” she says quietly. “Or I’m going to call for help. What’ll that do for your previous little reputation?”
“You think I give a fuck about reputations?” I tilt my lips down closer to hers. “Ditch Matthew. You know you’re wasting your time.”
“Ditch him and do what? Marry you? Or should I just let you fuck me and dump me once you’re bored? Because that’s what you do.”
“Asked around about me, have you?” I enjoy the thrum of excitement in my chest. “You are thinking about fucking me.”
Her cheeks turn hot pink. “Stop it. Just stop, okay? I don’t know what your obsession is with me but I’m not interested. I have—I need to do this, so leave me alone.”
That hangs between us for a moment. I relax my grip but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she shifts closer, and I can smell her perfume, floral and subtle. I want to dip my mouth down to her neck and breathe her in. Fuck, she’s driving me crazy and I don’t know why. I need to control myself or else I’m going to ruin my only chance.
I whisper, “I wasn’t kidding about what I said in the cab. I need a wife and I know you need a husband. We can help each other.”
“No, we can’t. My family would lose it if I got engaged to an Arc.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing.” She hesitates just for a moment and that sign is the confirmation that I need. “I know what you are. You’re the girl they turn to when they need to hurt someone to make themselves feel better, aren’t you? You’re the one Sara Lynn thinks is trash, the girl standing in the corner always hiding from the room, the girl afraid that the slightest bit of attention will end with more embarrassment, more pain. I remember you, Kat, and I remember the day I first met you. I remember your ugly little cousin and what she was doing, and I bet she’s been doing that your whole life, hasn’t she?” I can see it now, I can almost taste it, Kat’s life spread out like a dish on a table: all those hurt nights, all those anxious days, the anger and frustration and rage.
“Let me go,” Kat whispers, and there are tears in her eyes. “You don’t know me. You don’t know me at all.”
“Marry me, Kat. Together we can help each other. I’ll get what I want and I’ll give you what you need.”
“Yeah? What do I need? Why do you think you know a thing about me?”
“You need revenge. Show your cousins that you’re not some leftover. Show them they shouldn’t have bullied you your whole life.”
For a second, her jaw works, and I think I’ve finally hit on what really motivates her—but she finally yanks back and wipes her eyes gently with her fingers. I watch her and can tell she’s wrestling with something, with a big emotion, and I can see that I’ve tapped into primal emotions and memories and feelings that are important for her. This is my real skill—finding that one vein, that one tiny bit of glittering gold in someone, and figuring out how to twist it and use it.