Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 46500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 233(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 233(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
I’d been crying my eyes out when Ink had come back to my room. Without a word, he just wrapped me up in his arms and held me until I passed out from crying so much.
When I woke up the next morning, I was in bed alone. I stumbled to the shower, and a sad smile tilted my lips at the two Tylenol tablets and the cup of coffee that was sitting on the bathroom counter waiting on me. A single slip of paper was beside it with Ink’s messy handwriting on it.
Take the Tylenol, drink the coffee, and get a shower. I’m in the gym when you get done. Clubhouse is crowded – Alejandro came in early this morning. –Ink.
I gratefully took the Tylenol for the headache I had, gulping down the coffee after.
Bless that man.
Ink was doing push-ups when I walked into the gym at the very back of the clubhouse on the opposite side of the building from where I slept. He was shirtless, his body covered in sweat. He had on a hat that was turned backward to keep his dark hair from flopping into his eyes. And those muscles? They flexed every time he moved.
I literally wiped my hand over my mouth to make sure that I wasn’t drooling.
He looked up at me, almost as if he sensed me. Pushing himself onto one arm, he lifted his other hand, crooking his index finger at me in a silent command to come to him.
“Lay down on your back,” he instructed once I was near him.
“Why?” I asked him, though I followed the simple command and laid on my back on the blue mat. I was thankful that I knew Joey made sure these mats were cleaned and sanitized daily.
I squeaked in shock when Ink surprised me by easily moving his body over mine. “Legs apart,” he ordered.
Swallowing thickly, I opened my legs, bending them at the knees. He smirked down at me before he lowered himself down, his lips meeting mine. “Good morning,” he greeted. My heart swelled in my chest. God, how was it possible that he was this fucking sweet? “Did you eat breakfast?” he asked me.
I shook my head. “I’m not hungry,” I told him honestly.
He frowned down at me, halting his movements. “You have to train your body to eat three meals a day again, Jessie. You’ve been neglecting yourself for too long.”
I narrowed my eyes up at him. “I’m—oh.” I moaned when he lowered himself down, angling his hips to push right against my core.
He smirked down at me. “If you want me to fuck you like you deserve to be fucked, you’ll let me finish my workout, we’ll eat breakfast, and then I’ll give you the best dick down of your fucking life before I take you to the hospital to go see Gloria.”
Oh, fuck.
I mutely nodded my head, but I should have known that wasn’t going to cut it. “Words, my girl.”
“Okay,” I squeaked.
“Okay, you’ll eat breakfast?” he asked me. “With a full bottle of water?” I scowled at him. He arched that sexy fucking eyebrow at me. “Don’t be a fucking brat, Jessie.”
“Stop acting like my fucking dad, then, Ink,” I retorted. The mere thought of someone trying to tell me what to do with the one thing I had control over in my life was making me bristle and clam up.
Food was the one thing I had control over—the one thing that no one would ever be able to take from me.
He gripped my chin, forcing my eyes to lock on his. My heart thumped hard in my chest as I swallowed nervously. “Baby, I’m your fucking man—not your goddamn father,” he told me, his tone deadly. I trembled beneath the force of his voice. “You wear my fucking name on the back of your neck. That means that I fucking take care of you. Stop fighting me on this shit. You’re underweight. You need to fucking eat three solid, square meals a day with snacks in between.” He leaned down and brushed his nose with mine before he leaned back up. The move was so tender despite his obvious anger that it had tears burning at the back of my eyes.
“Do as I ask, and I promise, I’ll make you the happiest fucking woman in the world,” he swore. “Fight me on dumb shit like this, and we’ll always be arguing. Your choice, my girl.”
With that, he pushed himself up from the mat and grabbed his towel, wiping his face off. “I’m going to shower. I’ll be eating breakfast in fifteen minutes. Your choice how you decide this shit goes,” he warned me.
With that, he strode from the gym.
I glared at myself in the mirror. Why was it so hard for me to just do as he asked? It wasn’t like he was asking me to do something stupid. He was asking me to eat breakfast—asking me to just fucking take care of myself.