Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
I push her off me, not allowing her to finish.
“Is it something I—”
“You’re dismissed.” I reach for my glass, my anger building.
Moments later, a club host walks up. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Blake. Was there something wrong with Gail? She’s been one of our most popular—”
“No.” She’s not her. “It’s fine. Get me a room. Gold level,” I say, needing to rid the little temptress from my system.
“Yes. Of course. Do you have anyone particular in mind?”
“A brunette. Petite.”
“As you wish, Mr. Blake.”
I slam my drink back and make my way to the private rooms. If this doesn’t do the trick, I’m fucked.
And so is she.
Chapter six
Georgia
The world around me dissolves into a blur of sensations—hands everywhere, too many to count, too quick to follow. They skim over my skin, greedy and possessive, gripping, exploring, claiming.
Fingers tangle in my hair, yanking my head back until warm lips ghost over mine, teasing but never quite meeting. Soft whispers drift around me, words too hushed to decipher yet thick with intent.
A palm slides down my stomach, slow and deliberate, anticipation coiling within me. Without warning, his touch shifts suddenly rough, his fingers pushing between my soaked folds, forcing a gasp from my lips. There’s no patience, no hesitation—only need.
The blaring alarm jolts me awake, yanking me from the haze of my dream. I shoot up, fumbling for my phone. Before I can grab it, a strong arm snakes around me, pulling me back into bed. My breath catches as every muscle in my body grows taut.
It was a dream. Right?
“Relax. I know you love to hit the snooze at least seven more times.”
Noah.
I don’t mean to, but I lean into him, relief washing over me.
“Curious what you were dreaming about. You were practically panting in your sleep.”
I shove him off me and climb out of bed. “I was dreaming about chasing you down and stabbing you.”
“Savage. You’d think I was the one who broke up with you.”
I whip around, giving him a nasty glare. “More like the way you’ve been treating me.”
Noah hops out of bed. “Wait—I’m the bad guy here? I’m not the one who pulled this bullshit.”
“No, you’re the asshole who has no idea how to have a relationship. You don’t know how to treat a woman… outside the bedroom—”
He prowls toward me, pressing me against the dresser. “You keep saying that. And I keep telling you—”
“What’s going on in here?”
Noah jerks back at the sound of his father’s voice, like it startled him out of something darker.
“Nothing,” he mutters, but it’s tight, like the word barely made it past whatever storm is brewing in his chest.
“That doesn’t look like nothing.”
I hold my breath. I hate when he gets like this—closed off, tense, a raw edge to every breath he takes. There’s no violence in him, not really, but there’s something else, something wild and restless, caged behind his eyes.
He’s never laid a hand on me. I don’t think he ever would. But there are moments—like this—when I can almost feel the weight of everything he’s holding back. Anger, grief, confusion. A darkness he doesn’t even understand. It’s like he’s always at war with something inside him, fighting battles no one can see, barely keeping it all together.
“We’re fine. Don’t you have morning calls to make?” Noah snaps, turning to his father, looking like he’s about to square off.
“Get ready for work.” His father retreats, catching my eye before disappearing from view.
When he’s gone, Noah shifts his gaze to me. “I’m sick of you acting like I’m the bad guy. You don’t want to be with me? Fine. But stop making me out to be the only fucked up one. You’re right there with me, baby.” With that, he walks out the door, and I collapse back onto the bed, trying to figure out what just happened.
Noah and I sit in silence the entire way to work. If he thinks I’m going to apologize for anything, he’s wrong. I hate that he called me out—called us out—but he’s right. I’m no less fucked up than he is. He may come from a wealthy family, a rich kid who has it all, but that doesn’t mean he’s not as screwed up as the rest of us.
Unlike Noah, whose financial future is set, I’m buried in loans—loans my mother swore she would help me with. I wouldn’t even have them if she hadn’t married Bill and allowed him access to my college fund.
My dad was the one who provided for our family. He had a stable job with great benefits, which meant we could take vacations, live comfortably, and save for my sister and me. But when I was ten, my dad died, and everything changed. My mom was lost without him. Heartbroken. She’d been with my dad her whole life. Being alone was so unknown to her it scared her. It’s why she clung to the first man who showed her attention. A man who wore this mask and fed her lies, hiding all his faults. They married within a year of my dad’s death, and that’s when everything fell apart.