Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 122242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
"Fuck," I growl, squeezing my eyes closed as frustration runs through me. I pop them open again almost immediately, pinning Mila with a hard stare. "If she needs anything, call me. I'll get her a phone today."
"She can use mine anytime," Mila promises, giving me a sympathetic smile.
I should have gotten Faith a phone already, but didn't think about the fact that she doesn't have one. Even if Tarasova had given her that kind of freedom, it would have been taken from her the minute she entered protective custody. And quite frankly, after what she's told me about him, I doubt he gave her much of anything but pain and grief.
"I'll get her a phone today," I mutter again and then duck out of the room to see her lingering at the end of the hall, her eyes downcast and her expression defeated. "Faith."
She glances up at me. The watery sheen in her eyes takes my breath away. My frustration dies, unable to stand in the face of her distress.
"I'm sorry," I murmur, closing the distance between us. "I didn't mean to embarrass you or hurt your feelings."
"It's fine," she says.
"It's not fine," I disagree, reaching out to cup her jaw. She tenses but doesn't pull away. "I don't like it when you're angry with me."
"I'm not angry with you."
"You've been angry all morning, conejita."
"I shouldn't sleep in your bed, Octavio," she blurts, distress running through her gaze again. "It's a bad idea."
"Why?"
"I…it just is," she mumbles, glancing away from me.
"Did it make you uncomfortable?" I stroke her jaw, determined to sort this out here and now.
"N-no."
"You liked it," I guess, cupping her cheek when my dick throbs. Cristo, I shouldn't like knowing that so goddamn much. And yet I do.
"It doesn't matter," she mumbles. "It's a bad idea, Octavio."
She's probably right about that, but I don't really fucking care. She liked being in my arms, and that's what matters. She felt safe with me. And now, she doesn't know what to do or how to feel. Relationships aren't new to her. The whole goddamn world is.
"Would you do something for me?" I ask instead of arguing with her.
"What?" she whispers, staring up at me. Her honey-brown eyes are bright as she searches my face. A little hint of desire peeks out at me again, along with a lot of wariness.
Even seeing the wariness in her gaze, I have to fight the urge to lean down and press my lips to hers. I desperately want to know if they're as soft as they look, if she tastes as good as I imagine she does.
Dios. She's too beautiful.
I run my thumb over her bottom lip, unable to stop myself. It's as soft as I thought it would be. Softer, perhaps. I take a small step back, trying to put distance between us before I push her further than she's ready to go. As much as I want it…she isn't ready.
Cristo, she's nowhere near ready.
"What?" she whispers again.
"If I find you someone to talk to about what you've been through, would you talk to them?"
"You mean like a shrink?" she asks. Her tongue darts out to lick her bottom lip, but I'm not sure if it's simple nervousness like normal or if she's trying to taste me. The thought that it might be the latter has my jeans growing uncomfortably tight as my dick reacts.
"Yes. We have one on staff. I think talking to her would be good for you," I suggest, but don't push. She needs to make this decision herself. Forcing her to talk to someone won't get me anywhere but frozen out. And, as I've recently discovered, I don't much care for when she isn't talking to me.
She eyes me for a moment, clearly torn.
"She won't tell anyone what you reveal to her, Faith. Not even me."
"Okay," she whispers after another brief hesitation, biting into her bottom lip. "I'll try it."
"Yeah?"
She nods.
Pride flows through me again, pulling a smile to my lips. And then I have to shove my hands into my pockets to keep from reaching for her. "Are you sure you'll be okay here today?"
"I'll be fine," she says, wrapping her arms around herself like she's cold. "I like Mila."
"That's very good," I murmur, relieved to hear that. "If you need anything at all, you call me, okay?"
"I will," she promises.
"I'll be back as soon as I can."
She nods and then reaches out to touch my arm before I can walk away. I stop and turn back to her, shocked that she touched me on her own. I can count on one hand how many times she's touched me of her own volition…and every single time has been while she was obviously in distress. This time is different. She didn't reach for me out of fear. She did it simply because she wanted to touch me, wanted my attention.