Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
“You get cold, sweets, I got a closet full of fucking clothes you can put on.”
I nodded, swallowing nervously.
He reached me then, and I held my breath as he ran a hand down my arm.
“No other man’s clothing touches this body. Do you understand?”
I didn’t, but I nodded anyway. It was just a hoodie. Fabric. It had smelled like laundry detergent. I hadn’t even known it was Sebastian’s. I’d thought he’d just grabbed the first thing he saw.
“You … you … held a gun on him,” I said, fighting the urge to cry or hit him. I was torn between being terrified or pissed off.
He nodded his head once as he ran his knuckles over my collarbone. “Yeah. I should have shot him in the leg to make a point.”
I shook my head. “No. It was a hoodie. You don’t shoot people over clothing.” Words I never thought I’d have to say to someone.
His eyes met mine. “He knew better. Trust me.”
I disagreed with him, but I didn’t say so.
“I don’t like guns,” I told him.
He smirked and ran his hand through my curls. “Yeah, but you like me, and I come with a few.”
I placed both hands on his chest and tried to move him back. I wanted some personal space. I opened my mouth to tell him so, but then my eyes dropped to the collar of his shirt, and I froze.
Red lipstick was on the starched white cotton. I didn’t own red lipstick, and I hadn’t been kissing his neck tonight. I shoved hard, and although he didn’t move, I felt him tense. His eyes narrowed.
“Get away from me,” I bit out.
Fury, pain, betrayal all began to twist in my chest. He’d come in here and held a gun on Sebastian over a piece of clothing, yet he had lipstick on his shirt
“No,” he replied, grabbing my hips and pulling me closer to him.
Unable to look at him or his shirt, I glared at the wall to my left. “You have lipstick on your shirt,” I snapped as my chest felt like it was going to explode.
His hands tightened their grip on me. “We had to act. Sell the relationship.”
“With her lips on you?”
King took my chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing my face in his direction. I refused to look at him though. I stared at his chest instead.
“Look at me, Rumor,” he demanded.
“No! You come back from making out with another woman and pull a gun on your friend for letting me use his hoodie! That is not fair.”
King released my chin, but he buried his hands in my hair, holding on to both sides of my head and tilting it back until I had to meet his gaze or close my eyes. “I didn’t make out with Scotlin. I endured her. It was fucking hell. One I couldn’t wait to get away from. All I thought about was getting back here to you. Then, I walked in and saw you in another man’s hoodie. Yeah, I reacted poorly. Rage is a hard bitch, and I had no control over it. I should probably apologize, but I won’t because if I ever see another man’s clothes on your body again, I will shoot him, I swear to God.”
Did I believe him? He hadn’t made out with her? Had he kissed her at all? What did it mean that he had to make it believable? How affectionate did they get?
“She put her lips on you,” I said.
“I didn’t want it. I didn’t enjoy it,” he replied in a softer tone. “Come take a shower with me.”
I shook my head. “We did that earlier.” I also wasn’t ready to just let this go. Move on. I was considering sleeping on the sofa.
“I want to wash Sebastian’s fucking hoodie from your body and Scotlin’s shit off me. Please, sweets.”
I sighed in frustration at myself. At this situation I had gotten into and the fact that I wanted to please him, even after he pulled a gun on his friend over something so dumb. It wasn’t healthy, this thing we were doing. At least not for me. He had too much control over me, and I was the one giving it to him.
Glaring up at him, I clenched my teeth. “Fine. But I want that shirt burned. And the next time you come back with her lipstick on you, I am moving back to Maeme’s.”
“It’ll never happen again. I swear it.”
I nodded, feeling somewhat better.
He ran his hand through my hair and wrapped a strand of my curls around one of his fingers. “Are we good?” he asked.
I didn’t know if that was the word I would use. But there was no other option, except to just walk away. Demand to go back to Maeme’s. Shut him out.
I wouldn’t do that though. It would be too painful. The idea of not having him at all was becoming something I couldn’t accept. Even if he was unhinged and deranged.