Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
I’m on my feet and in front of him when Ethan opens the gate and exits. “What was that?” I ask, my voice a hushed demand.
“He needed to hear from me. Now, he has.” His tone is oh so nonchalant, as if he hasn’t just rocked my world and probably our relationship before I’m even comfortable calling it that.
“What did you say to him?”
“Man-to-man stuff. He listened. He needs space to digest what I said.”
“What did you say to him?” I repeat, not letting this go.
“That’s between me and your father.”
I scowl so deep I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s etched permanently in my forehead. “You do know that’s not okay, right?”
“I assumed you’d be pissed,” he concedes. “I assumed I might end up on the couch or in a hotel, but if I got through to him, it was worth it.”
“I don’t even know what to say to that.”
“He said the same thing to me. Think on it, just like he is, and let’s get you home.”
Paul pulls the SUV to the sidewalk, and Ethan opens the door for me. I consider walking, but then I’d lose the chance to drill him for more. I climb inside the vehicle, and Ethan follows, and he doesn’t keep his distance. He shuts the door, slides in close, and before I know his intent, his hand is on the back of my head and he’s leaning in close, his breath warm and wicked on my cheek. “I told him I need him to step back and think like an investor and see what I saw without a full picture, and then really consider my turnaround and the success we can have together. He’s not getting rid of me. He might as well make money with me. And, I told him, the reason he’s not getting rid of me is that I’m crazy about you.” And then his mouth is on my mouth, and I’m moaning with the possessive way his tongue licks my tongue, melting against him even as he folds me close.
My fingers tangle in his hair, and I’m only remotely aware of the vehicle moving, of Paul right in front. I’m panting when Ethan’s lips part mine, and he says, “He’s going to come around.”
“You don’t know him. You don’t know that.”
“I know people. I negotiate all the time.”
“I’m not a negotiation, Ethan. This is about his daughter. It’s about us.”
“I know that. He knows I know that.”
“But you still won’t tell me what you said.” It’s not a question. He’s not going to tell me. I know this. I feel it in every part of me.
“Give me some credit, Sofia.” His hand plants on the seatback behind me.
“I’m his ultimate precious cargo.”
“And you’re mine now, too.”
“I can’t be that important to you yet.”
“When can you be? When is that okay with you?”
I’m reeling, defensive, and uncertain. Anything too good to be true… “Not now,” I say. “Not yet.”
“Good to know.” His voice is a blade, and I know immediately it’s not me who’s cut. It’s him. In my effort to protect myself, I think…I think I hurt him, and I didn’t…That wasn’t what I intended.
The SUV halts, and Ethan bites out, “Let’s go inside.”
It’s then that I realize we’re at my house. We’ve been tongue-to-tongue in all kinds of ways, and I had no idea we’d made the trip. Ethan pushes away from me, and I run my hand through my hair, desperate to compose myself. “Thank you, Paul,” I murmur without looking at him, heat burning my cheeks. He has to know we were all over each other as readily as we were at each other.
Ethan offers me his hand, and I accept it, the connection one part attraction, one part anger. He’s hurt and pissed. I think I am, too, but maybe he has more of a reason for how he feels. Maybe not. He did go to my father’s house without even asking me upfront. His long fingers close around mine, and I swear when he touches me, my mind’s a jumbled mess. He owns me, and it’s a little bit terrifying, but no matter what, when we go inside, we’re talking. Or yelling. Or whatever it takes to get to the other side of this, whatever this has become.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Sofia
We arrive at the front door, and Ethan pulls me in front of him, my back to his front, his big body encasing mine, and once again, my hand trembles as I key in the code. So much so that he reaches around me and opens the door, shoving it open. His hands settle on my shoulders, near my neck, heat radiating beneath his palms, and he walks me forward, guiding me, possessing me, keeping me from running. Not that running is on my mind. This is my home. This is my territory. That was my father, who was just shocked with Ethan’s sudden appearance at his door.