Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
I face her again and grab her chin in my hand, hard. There are tears swimming in her eyes, and I curl my lip at the sight of them. “I don’t want your fucking pity.”
One tear slips down her cheek. “I don’t pity you.”
I swipe the tear away and settle both hands on her warm cheeks, using my thumbs to bat each tear as it falls. My anger fizzles away like the death of a sparkler, shining brightly, telling me to crush her here and now, and then it’s gone, dead with the softness in her eyes. “Then what is this, if not pity?”
Her forehead knots and she searches my eyes, sliding her gaze back and forth between mine. “It’s sadness. I’m sad about what you went through, and sad that I haven’t been able to change the world enough yet to spare the next child put in that position.”
It’s not a reaction, but a necessity. I don’t think as I settle my mouth over hers and brush our lips together.
10
SELENA
I’m not sure how he went from spitting curses at me to kissing me. It’s thrilling and terrifying at the same time, not knowing who he’ll be today. The man who hates me, or the one trying to unlock my secrets. Or maybe the one with the haunted wild eyes waiting for me in the dark. I can’t know, and that’s part of the draw.
And I am drawn to him. Even as much as I think I hate him.
I settle my hands on his chest and stay still while he rubs his lips over mine. It’s more of an exploration than a kiss, but I still feel it in every part of my body. My toes are tingling and there’s already a soft gentle pulse in my clit matching the erratic beat of my heart. He tastes cool, like clean ice-cold water, and fuck, I want to drown in him.
But I can’t.
I gently push his chest, enough that he gets the message and stops kissing me. Except he doesn’t stop kissing me, but simply opens his eyes, his mouth still sliding along mine. If he won’t stop, then I’ll have to be the strong one here.
I ease away from him, and the more distance I get, the easier it is to get more distance. I race out of the room, back to my room, and slam the door hard enough to rattle the pictures on the walls.
Fuck. Shit. His kissing me changed something. It wasn’t even a real kiss. Nothing more than a six grader might try as a first attempt on the playground. Nothing but his lips on mine.
It might be a convincing lie if I didn’t feel it still in every part of me.
Damn. I need a drink, and I’m not about to go out there rooting around for one. Not if he’s going to be there looking all…
I shake my head, find some shoes since I left mine in his room apparently, and grab a few twenties from my suitcase. Quietly, I creak open the door to check for his presence. He’s not there and his door is closed, so I creep out, gently ease the heavy room door open and sneak into the hallway.
When I reach the elevator without him barreling after me, I let out a long sigh. It only takes a few minutes to get to the ground floor and the waiting bar nearest the elevator. It’s styled after an old pub, and I don’t even care as I signal the bartender for an old-fashioned.
I settle on the stool farthest from the door and cup the drink closer. At the very least, it will dull some of this ache which seems to have awakened inside me over nothing, absolutely nothing. “It was barely a kiss,” I mumble into my glass, and take a long gulp, letting the alcohol burn its way down my throat.
I manage to finish my drink and order another before he finds me, storming into the pub, causing many of the patrons to take one look at him and run.
With a little buzz bravery, I swivel on the stool and pat the one next to me. “Join me, please. You could probably use one of these yourself.”
His chest is heaving, his eyes dark, his curls shoved away from his face like he’s been spearing his fingers through them. “Do you have any idea what…” He stops and takes a long inhale through his nose and then out through his mouth. “You are a bigger brat than I thought. Coming down here, putting yourself at risk, for what, a damn drink? Was it worth it? Is that drink right there”—he points to my almost empty second glass— “worth taking a bullet to the head?”
He brings his fingers up and presses them to my temple. “That is how quick and easy someone could take you out. You’re practically doing their job for them right now.”