Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 129432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
She drops her hand and turns to her dinner, mumbling, “Twelve indentations and ten muscly bumps.”
I glance down, trying to make sense of her numbers. I spend two hours a day, seven days a week in my home gym, honing my physique into tiptop shape for the same reason every other guy works out. To get laid. But now I want to hit the weights just to watch her count my muscles again.
She sucks a noodle off her fork, grinning. “You don’t look like a teacher.”
“You don’t look like a student.”
Her smile disintegrates.
I wipe a hand down my face, wishing I could call back those words. How many times have her looks attracted the wrong kind of attention? She attracted me.
She waves her fork up and down the length of my body. “You’d make more money modeling than teaching.”
“Do I look like I need money?”
“Good point.” She scans the kitchen, taking in the high-end appliances that never get used. She doesn’t ask about the source of my wealth, but I know she’s wondering.
I swallow a buttery bite of pasta and twirl more noodles around my fork. “My family holds the patent on the wooden bracings in pianos.”
“Wow. Really?”
“Really. So money is not my incentive for working.”
“Why work at all? You could live on a yacht, drink rum, and grow a smelly beard.” Her eyebrows lift. “Like a pirate.”
“A pirate.” My lips twitch. “As appealing as that sounds, boredom doesn’t suit me.” I would lose my fucking mind. “I need challenge and self-earned success, and I find those things playing piano, teaching…” I give her a narrowed look. “And disciplining.”
Her eyes flicker. “You’re very good at that last one.”
“But not the others?”
A sly grin pulls at the corner of her mouth. “I’ve never heard you play.”
“I play every night.” Except I won’t be able to tonight.
I glance at my throbbing hand with no regrets.
She scrapes a forkful of linguine. “I know this is a big place, but I haven’t seen a piano.”
“I’ll give you a tour another time. Finish your dinner.”
She inhales the remainder of the pasta and follows it with gulps of sweet tea.
I finish mine soon after and slide the dish away. “I made a doctor’s appointment for you.”
Her fork clanks against the plate, her voice quiet. “I don’t have insurance or the money to pay for that.”
My hand flexes. I want to hurt her mother and every other person who’s never been there for her. “It’s covered.”
“I can’t—”
I slam my fist against the counter, rattling the china. “You will go to that appointment and get a full examination, for the sake of your health and for my peace of fucking mind.”
Jaw clenched, she pitches me a stubborn glare.
She can scowl all she wants. I’m not finished. “From this point forward, the words I can’t are no longer in your vocabulary.” I angle forward until all she can see is my eyes. “Do I make myself clear?”
“Oh, you’re clear.” She holds my gaze. “And abrasive and surly. You have a terrible temper.”
A playful kind of youth twinkles in her eyes, but there’s something else there, too. Her lips separate to allow for the climb in her breaths, and she’s not blinking, like she’s forcing a mask of toughness and bravery.
Deep down, she’s scared. To stand up to me? To disappoint me? To put faith in what’s happening between us?
I close the inches between us and kiss her mercilessly on the mouth. Cupping her head in both hands, I work my tongue against hers, fusing us together, licking and biting and flooding her with every last drop of fervor I feel for her. I love her strength in the face of fear, her determination despite all her roadblocks, and fuck me, I love her mouth. The way the hot, wet suction of her lips wraps around my tongue and hardens my cock.
She tips back in the frame of my hands and searches my eyes. We stare at each other, chests heaving, suspended in the energy pulsing between us.
After an endless stretch of heartbeats, she blinks. “I have the money to pay you for the textbooks…but…I can see…” She cringes at the heat rising in my face. “Now is a bad time to bring that up.”
I stack the dishes and carry them to the sink. “By tomorrow night, I want a list of your bills and all the things you need.” I throw her a hard look over my shoulder. “Things I won’t know to buy.”
She joins me at the sink, her expression pinched in frustration.
I rinse a plate and hand it to her. “I know you’re strong enough and brave enough to stand on your own. Hell, you’ve been doing it for years.” I brush my fingers over her stiff jaw. “But now you have help. I’m here to make your hardships a little less hard. You will lean on me.”