Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 86052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
I hate myself for the harm my actions have caused, and I will spend every day of forever trying to make it up to him.
Xander puts on a brave face all night, but underneath the stubborn facade, I know he’s in a lot of pain. Not that the big idiot would ever admit to it.
I wake early on Saturday morning after feeling like shit all night. Each time Xander moved in his sleep he would cringe and grunt in pain. I tried to give him space, but he would just keep pulling me back to him. It was like sleeping on eggshells. I was terrified of making a single move.
I dash around my room pulling on my jeans and boots before searching high and low for my favorite bra. Finding it hanging from the ceiling fan, I reach up, barely being able to grip the fabric, and yank it down. I’m unable to help the wicked grin stretching across my face as I’m putting it on, remembering exactly how it got up there in the first place.
After pulling on a shirt, I head to the bathroom and brush my teeth before ducking back into the bedroom and leaning down to press my lips to Xander’s.
He wakes with my touch, and his arms fly up and around my neck, holding me to him so he can take advantage of my kiss. “Stop,” I chuckle against his lips. “You’re gonna hurt yourself. I’ll be back soon.”
Xander frees me before taking a second to notice I’m dressed and ready for the day. “Where the hell are you going?” he pouts.
“Out,” I say, grabbing my purse and phone off the bedside table. “I won’t be long.”
“Oh,” he says, throwing the blanket back. “Give me two minutes. I’ll come with you.”
“The hell you will,” I scold, pulling the blanket right back into position. “You’re staying right there until you’re feeling better.”
Xander gapes at me, looking as though I just pulled his heart right out of his chest and stomped on it. “Bullshit.”
I shake my head before going around my room, making sure I have everything I need. “I don’t want to hear it.”
A slow grin spreads across his lips as his eyes darken with hunger. “That’s the kind of attitude that earns a lady a good spanking.”
“I’ll make you a deal,” I say as I spritz a little of the perfume Xander had gotten me last week onto my wrist. I watch him out of the corner of my eye as he raises his brow in curiosity. “If you’re a good boy over the next few days and let me look after you, then I’ll be a bad girl for you.” I creep in closer, kneeling on the end of the bed and slowly crawling toward him, my gaze locked heavily on his. I watch how his hunger turns into intense desire, and it makes me feel like I can do anything. “Whatever you want, Xander. On the bar, in the ring, spread out on the ice as you feast between my legs . . .”
Xander groans, reaching for me, but I spring back out of the way before he can catch me. “Gotta be faster than that, Widow Maker.”
His gaze darkens, knowing damn well I’m taking a stab at his claim of being one of the fastest guys in the game. But hell, egos were made to be shot down, and besides, teasing this incredible man is the best fun I’ve ever had.
Xander shakes his head and, taking pity on him, I stride around the side of the bed again and press my lips to his in a feather-soft kiss. “Why don’t you go back to sleep?” I suggest. “I won’t be long.”
His hand shoots up, knotting into my hair to hold me still, and kissing me deeper. “How am I supposed to sleep now that I’m thinking about spreading those pretty thighs and tasting that sweet pussy?”
Oh, God. I clench my thighs, a fierce yearning rocking through me. I should have known better than to play games with Xander Phillips. I need to bail before this big idiot is out of bed and bending me over.
Pulling away from him, I try to find my bearings and remind myself of the bruises across his ribs. The last thing he needs right now is to be getting worked up. “Remember,” I say, backing toward the door. “You need to be a good boy before you can be a bad one.”
“Fuck, babe,” he whines as I slip through the door and try to make a hasty exit. “Come back.”
I keep walking when I pull up short, cursing myself at how desperate I am for this man. Fighting a smile, I double back and shove my head into my bedroom, getting the perfect view of his body, the bedsheets riding low across his hips. “Need something?” I purr.