Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60757 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60757 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Bones concentrated on his food as he ate, scarfing everything down like he was starving.
I took my time, having an appetite but not enough to stop staring at the man sitting across from me.
“Pack your things when we’re done. We’re staying at my place.”
“What’s wrong with my apartment?”
He grabbed his mug with a single large hand. “For starters, it doesn’t have a dining table.”
“You got me there…what else?”
“You have neighbors.”
“They’re quiet.”
“I still don’t want anyone to listen to me fuck you.”
“No one does.”
“And I don’t like the neighborhood. Not safe enough.”
“Joe rode the elevator directly into your apartment…”
“Different situation. Also, my place is packed with weapons. You’ve got nothing here.”
“Why do I need weapons when I have you?”
He steadied his mug, staring at me with an expression that suddenly turned more serious. “I prefer solitude, a sanctuary equipped to handle a siege. At Lake Garda, we’re off the map. The house is enormous, we have someone to wait on us, I can continue my work, and you can continue your paintings.”
When he told me to pack my things, I assumed we were going to his place in Milan, not staying at his place two hours away. “I can’t go back to Lake Garda.”
“I don’t remember asking you.” He drank from his mug and set it down.
From the moment I came back to him, he became more possessive of me than before. Now he felt like he owned me, like he could control me more than he could when I was his prisoner. “I can’t be two hours away. My family stops by all the time, and I have no way to explain why I’m in Lake Garda.”
He took a few more bites of his food, being quiet as he considered what I said.
“If we want this to work, my family can’t be suspicious at all…” I didn’t want to get into another conversation about this relationship. It always ended the same way, making me feel depressed and hopeless. It was best just to avoid it, especially since there was nothing we could do about it. “I need to be close. If you really don’t want to stay here, your place down the road is our only option.”
“Alright. We’ll stay there, then.”
That agreement was much easier to reach than I expected.
“But I’ll have to go back to Lake Garda from time to time.”
“And I’ll have to come back here and make it seem like it’s being inhabited.”
Bones didn’t argue with that and continued eating. He finished everything on his plate, scraping it until it was completely clean. He stared at me as he chewed and picked up his coffee mug.
I missed being the recipient of that possessive stare. It was more dominating than a hand to my neck. It claimed me more than having his dick between my legs. I’d never been afraid of his look before, but now that everything was different, that look took on a whole new meaning. He had a tighter hold on me than before, and this time, he wouldn’t let go.
Not that I wanted him to let me go.
We’d spent the last three months getting to know each other, but that acquaintance happened physically and emotionally. We didn’t have long talks over coffee or discuss each other’s greatest hopes and fears. Most of the time, both of our guards were up. But now that our feelings had been laid out on the table, there was no hiding anymore.
“Do you plan to assassinate people for a living forever?”
He sipped his coffee, his sculpted shoulders shifting with his movements. “What else would I do?”
“Anything that doesn’t require you to kill anyone.”
“Not interested.” He rested his elbows on the table, sipping his coffee as he stared at me. “I’m a hitman, baby. That’s never going to change, so I suggest you let it go. That would be like me asking you to stop painting.”
“Painting is my passion. Killing people is yours?” I asked incredulously.
“I get a kick out of it.”
I knew he killed people when I fell in love with him, so hearing him say he wouldn’t change shouldn’t make a difference. “You seem rich enough to retire if you wanted to.”
“I’m too young to retire, baby.”
I didn’t even know how old he was. “How old are you?”
He kept drinking his coffee. “Older than Conway by a year or so.”
“If you have the money set aside, age shouldn’t matter.”
“It’s not about the money. I enjoy my work, and I enjoy working with my boys. It’s our business, and I’m not turning my back on it for a woman. Accept me as I am because I’m not going to change.”
I hated hearing his cold response, but I also respected him for it. He held his ground, regardless of how much he wanted to make me happy. “I just don’t understand how you can kill innocent people for money…”