Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 70444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
I waited, knowing that there would be more.
“Woke up twice like that, of course, I didn’t actually have a knife, but in my dream, I was swinging, and both times, I wound up punching the nurse and then my mom. I punched my mom in the face, June,” he whispered.
My belly sank.
“How long ago was that?”
He shrugged. “The first time?”
I nodded.
“When I was first hurt, so about six months now. The second time? About three months ago. I’ve been here a month. That was the reason I left there.”
He sounded so forlorn.
I didn’t know what to say. I mean, it wasn’t okay. But also, how did he ever expect to get over it and move on without talking about it?
“So, you left. You didn’t tell your parents you were leaving, and now haven’t talked to them since you’ve been here?” I questioned.
Did I have that correct?
He nodded.
“Why?”
“Why?” he repeated.
I nodded. “Yes. Why?”
He opened his mouth and closed it. Then growled and closed his eyes as he let himself flop back on the couch. “Did you not hear the part where I tried to kill my mother?”
“I heard that part. But I also heard you describe what sounds to me like PTSD, which I’ve heard almost sixty percent of all soldiers have when they come home. You’re not alone. And it most certainly does not make you a weak man to need to talk to someone about it. So, talk to your fucking parents who are worried about you.” I poked him in the chest, right between his pecs.
He opened one eye and glared at me with it. It was quite the impressive glare, actually.
I tried not to smile.
The man thought he was so intimidating. Which I guess to someone who wasn’t me, someone who hadn’t seen or experienced his gentle side, he would be.
I thought back to the first time we had sex. He’d literally had the hardest time trying to have sex with me that first time. I had to do almost all of the work just to get him to climb over the last hurdle of touching me.
It was really quite endearing, so I’d never be able to look at him and be filled with fear. Even if he was trying to be intimidating—something he’d never be with me.
“Why does it matter to you that I want to take a break from my parents breathing down my neck?”
I hesitated.
“Honestly?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Because you have good parents. You have two people who genuinely care about you and truly want only the best for you. For you to succeed at whatever you decide to do with your life. They just want you to be happy. They’ll stand beside you no matter what, through thick and thin…and I can’t believe you’d turn your back on that,” I said honestly. “If I had something like that? I’d hold onto it with both hands. My grandfather has terminal cancer…did you know that?”
Johnny didn’t say a word.
“In a couple of months—they said he’s got six, but it could be a lot less—I’ll have no one.”
Something on Johnny’s face changed.
Then, suddenly I wasn’t on top of him anymore. Our positions were reversed. Now I was the one laying on the couch, and he was the one on top of me. His hips were between my legs, and he was staring down at me with an intensity that had the power to undo me.
“You’re wrong,” he whispered. “You will have someone. You’ll have me.”
Then he brought his mouth down on mine.
His tongue swept over my lips, teasing them to part. His hands found my hair as he used it to guide my face into position, and then he kissed me like I’d never been kissed before.
This was something new for him.
He’d never been on top—always so conscious and cautious of my fears—which were pretty much non-existent when it came to him. Though he never asked if something was all right, he always assumed it wasn’t.
But this time? This time he wasn’t being careful. This time, I thought he might well and truly be losing control—and I fucking loved it.
I loved that I made him forget to be careful. I loved that he was past the point of keeping himself in check.
I loved him.
Oh my God.
I loved him.
I loved him a lot, actually.
I would have to be in love with him to allow him to do this to me without freaking out.
His mouth broke from mine, and we both gasped for air. He moved down my body, pausing to nibble on my jaw before moving down my throat where he pressed a kiss in that indention at the base of my neck.
He skimmed his lips softly over the well-worn, ribbed tank top I’d thrown on after work. The moment he got to the gap in between my shirt and my shorts, he paused to drag his tongue along the exposed skin.