Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“So…what does that mean?”
“It means I’ll handle it.” He remained relaxed in the chair, knees wide apart, his stomach tight and hard even when he lounged on the cushions. “And you’ll be free to move on with your life.”
Was it really that easy? Of all the cars I could have jumped into, I’d jumped into his, and that simple act of coincidence or fate had changed my life. I stared at his handsome face and tried to find the words to describe the feelings swirling in my chest. “Thank you…” I’d never thanked someone so much in my life, in such a short amount of time.
“I’m not doing it as a favor to you. I’m not doing it because I care. I’m only doing it because it’s my job.” He was back to his beautiful stoicism, a man who appeared empty of all emotion. It was hard to believe he was such a passionate lover when he seemed so indifferent the rest of the time. “Because I’d rather you keep fucking me for a place to live.”
9
ALIÉNOR
The next morning, I woke up and got ready for the day before breakfast came around ten. I didn’t know if or when Luca would come by to see me, so I looked my best whenever I was awake in case he stopped by.
Andre entered my bedroom and set the feast on the table before he poured the coffee into a mug and departed. The room immediately smelled like eggs and butter and hot espresso. There was a basket of croissants that flaked just from a stare.
I’d just sat at the table when Luca walked inside.
He was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt like he’d just gotten home from work, working with criminals in the streets and making them adhere to the law. His eyes seemed a little tired, but they hardened at the sight of me. His presence was explosive, and he looked like a war general about to demand my surrender.
His mood was different than it’d been last night. Authoritarian. Ruthless. A little angry.
I remained seated, unsure what to do or what to say.
He grabbed his shirt from behind and yanked it over his head before he tossed it onto one of the armchairs.
Now I knew why he was here.
The only direction he gave was a nod toward the bed.
I hesitated, looking him up and down like I hadn’t already seen him naked. From head to toe, he was perfect. Instead of doing the most dangerous job imaginable, he could have modeled for all the high-end brands…preferably their underwear.
He lost his patience immediately. “Get your ass over here.”
I hopped up from my chair, wearing rose gold leggings and a white sports bra, wanting to look presentable but comfortable at the same time. Luca had asked Andre to grab me some clothes, and this outfit was one of the things he’d bought. High-end and soft, too nice even to work out in.
When I was close enough, he grabbed my arm like I was trying to get away rather than move closer to him. Like he refused to come to me but wanted me with ferocity. He tugged me into him and caught my lips with his. He kissed me hard and breathed fire into my lungs like a dragon that claimed its treasure.
The second we touched, we felt like different people, a man and a woman who couldn’t bear to be apart from each other. I felt like more than a stranger when he touched me, felt like far more than an acquaintance when he kissed me. Despite the aggressiveness of his touch, it made me go soft.
He released my arm, and he circled my waist with his arm, bringing me close into his body, digging his hand into my hair like he wanted to fist it rather than touch it. He had to dip his head to kiss me, bend his back for our mouths to reach because standing on my tiptoes like a ballerina just wasn’t enough.
He scooped his hands underneath my thighs and lifted me like he did when he carried me to the bed, but instead of doing that, he just stood there and held me, our mouths level to each other so we could continue the kiss.
The passion rose, but the speed of our affection dropped. His kisses turned slow and purposeful, feeling my lips like he’d never felt them before. I was petite, though still a 130-pound weight in his arms, but he held me like I weighed nothing. Like he lifted thrice my size every day in his home gym.
My arms circled his neck, and I was smothered in his scent. He smelled of cologne, but he also smelled like a man, like cigars and booze and gunpowder. When his body was right next to mine, he was like a furnace on a January morning.