Dirty Wars – The Lion and The Mouse Read Online Kenya Wright

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 248926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1245(@200wpm)___ 996(@250wpm)___ 830(@300wpm)
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“What?”

“Because I love you. . .and I don’t want you to be dealing with things on your own.”

“Em, you have your own shit—”

“Fuck that, Max. Are we in this together or not?”

He looked away. “Forget about that. What we need to discuss is the fact that Lunita brought up. . .”

“What?”

He ran his hand over his head. “Man, she said some crazy shit to us tonight.”

“Who is us?”

“Jean-Pierre, Kaz, and me.”

“Oh, no. J.P. saw me being a hot mess?”

“Jean-Pierre loved that shit. Lunita and him were vibing. He let her hold his bow.”

I frowned. “The one with the blade?”

“Facts.” He looked back at me. “But, that’s not what is important. Lunita said that she used to dream about a wedding on the roof with flowers in her hair. She was crying about it.”

Confusion filled me. “Why did she even say that?”

Max shrugged. “She was being weird around me. Jean-Pierre was digging and trying to figure out why. Then, all that came out.”

“I don’t understand.”

Max gave me an odd look. “Lunita. . .well you. . .as a little girl. . .would fantasize about marrying. . .me on the roof.”

“Oh.”

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Oh.” I covered my mouth with both hands.

“That’s what I’m saying. That shit fucked me up. She was crying too. Unfortunately, there has been no amount of weed or liquor that can get her pain out of my head tonight. I tried jazz. Lemonisha helped. The music and that lemon scent really started clearing my mind. Then you showed up.”

“Oh no. I’m sorry.” I moved closer to Max and scooted right to his side, wanting to comfort him, but. . .not sure if I could.

Three inches ran between us.

He shook his head and gave me a sad smile. “You’re so funny, Em.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t ever apologize to me.”

I smirked. “I can, if I want to.”

He turned away and stared at the lemon tree. “I wish I could help you, but I feel like. . .”

“What?”

“I feel like I might be broken too. . .”

“You are.”

He blinked, but didn’t look my way.

“Baba says we have to heal each other.”

“Baba need to stay out of my business and get our asses out of Italy safely.”

“Facts.” I looked at the tree too.

A new song played. These jazz notes spiraled into the air, fluttering and floating like butterflies.

I must do it.

Trembling, I scooted closer.

Two inches lay between us.

Max raised his eyebrows, but didn’t look my way.

I moved over again.

Now, there was only one inch.

Now. . .is the time. . .

Gritting my teeth, I lifted my hand and placed it on his shoulder.

There. Baba said touch so. . .

His muscles tensed under my fingers, yet he didn’t move or make a sound. The warmth of his smooth skin seeped into mine. Tingles ran from the tips of my fingers across my arms and to my neck. And in that moment, we linked together like two puzzle pieces.

We’re touching.

My throat felt tight, but no nausea rushed up.

Okay. Should I say something? No. That would be stupid. But then. . .not saying something. . .isn’t that dumb too?

My gaze dropped to his shoulder, wondering how to word what was going on in my mind.

I couldn’t find anything.

So. . .the quiet remained.

My heart raced.

Sweat beaded on my forehead.

Still, no disgust appeared. No bitter taste. No repulsion.

This touch between us. . .it comforted me. . .I couldn’t pull away.

Then, suddenly he slowly turned and put a steady gaze on my face.

Oh no.

Nervous, I widened my eyes. For some reason, I tightened my grip on his shoulder as if scared he was about to move it away.

But, he didn’t.

Max simply locked those eyes on me, piercing himself into the depths of my soul.

And the trumpet’s melody played on, serving as a soundtrack to the moment.

A cool breeze flowed in from the balcony, bringing the sweet scent of lemon to my nose and making me lean toward him, so that my arm touched some of his back.

This is. . .good.

I pressed down a little harder.

And as if resulting from some supernatural shift, the nerve endings in my fingers became hypersensitive. Something was happening with our skin-to-skin contact. Not sexual, but definitely entrenched in love. It was stimulating pressure. Soothing sensations. Heightened awareness on a spiritual level.

A bonding touch.

Never had I felt so connected to Max until this moment.

Never had I felt so attached to him.

So safe.

Something moved between us.

Was it more love or a deeper understanding?

What was this magic?

Was it hormones? Endorphins or serotonin? Oxytocin or cortisol? Or was it other natural chemicals that I didn’t know about?

I couldn’t define it, but I knew it was something with big scientific names and purposes that were outside my realm of understanding.

Could touch put me. . .us. . .into this hazy state of consciousness—this higher level of healing?

Surely, I felt a healing power moving. . .flowing. . .vibrating between us.


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