Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
She quickly crossed her arms over her chest again, her lashes flying wide as she realized that she’d given me a clear view of her nipples.
“I don’t usually see this time of morning at all,” she grumbled. “I made sure I wasn’t scheduled for any classes before ten AM this semester.”
“Poor florecita,” I said with exaggerated pity. “Don’t you know little flowers need morning sunshine? No wonder you’re so grouchy. You’re not getting enough vitamin D.”
“I’m not grouchy,” she insisted.
“You are right now,” I countered. “Here, nibble on this while I cook.” I offered her a chunk of cheddar cheese from the block I’d grated to fold into the eggs.
She snatched the morsel out of my hand and popped it into her mouth, glaring at me as though she’d somehow challenged me.
I grinned and turned my attention to finishing my task. I didn’t intend to get distracted by her and burn breakfast again. I wanted her to enjoy every aspect of her meal this morning.
As I went through the motions of making omelets, Sofia’s posture gradually relaxed. I wasn’t sure if it was the little nugget of cheese that had improved her mood or if she was simply forgetting to be annoyed with me.
Despite her swings of emotional upheaval over the last two days, Sofia was remarkably resilient. Her default demeanor was cheery, and nothing seemed to keep her down for long. Even when she’d argued with me, I’d never seen her in a true rage. Given the circumstances, she had every right to be angry, and I admired that she’d advocated for herself rather than cowering from me.
She asked a few questions about my technique while I was cooking, her natural curiosity soothing her irritation further. By the time I plated the omelets and set them down on the kitchen island, all of her grumpiness had melted away.
She tried to pick up the stool she’d been sitting on to return it to its usual place.
“Leave it there,” I ordered before she could lift it.
“But where will I sit?”
I patted my thigh. “Right here.”
Her eyes widened, and her lips parted slightly. She stared at me, her gaze flicking from my face to my lap and back again.
“Mateo.” She said my name breathlessly. “I don’t know…”
I tapped two fingers against my knee, silently coaxing her. I didn’t have to issue a verbal command. She would choose to come to me. She wanted the contact, craved it just as keenly as I did.
She took a hesitant step toward me, her eyes searching mine. “Won’t it be weird if I sit on your lap?”
“No, florecita,” I promised her as she took another step closer. “It won’t be weird. You’ll like it. And so will I.”
Slowly, she closed the distance between us. Just before she was close enough to touch, she stalled. Her teeth sank into her lower lip, and a little furrow appeared between her brows. She clasped her hands together, her fingers knotting.
“I should be afraid of you,” she whispered.
“No,” I reassured her. “You shouldn’t. I will never hurt you, Sofia. I just want to take care of you. Let me.”
She inched closer, as though she couldn’t hold herself back.
“I’m going to help you up.” I lifted my hands to her hips, moving slowly enough that she had time to stop me if she wanted to.
She didn’t stop me. Her eyes closed as soon as I gripped her waist, and she blew out a long sigh. Even this simple touch seemed to ease her anxiety in a way my words couldn’t.
By the time I shifted her body and had her curled up on my lap, she’d completely relaxed into my hold.
“Does this feel weird?” I asked, my voice coming out rougher than I intended. Sofia wasn’t the only one affected by our connection.
“No,” she admitted, tilting her head into the crook of my neck. “You smell good.” She took a deep inhale. “God, you’re like weed or something.”
“What?” I tried to smother a laugh. “I smell like weed? I’m pretty sure I should be offended.”
“No, I mean…” She breathed deeply, and I felt her melt against me. “You smell like pine and…I don’t know. Man. You smell like man. It makes me feel good. Like, really chilled out and relaxed.”
“Does it make you feel safe?” I asked quietly.
“Yeah,” she admitted on a sigh. “I feel safe with you, Mateo. I probably shouldn’t, but I do.”
“Trust your instincts. You’re safer in my arms than anywhere else on Earth. I swear.”
She snuggled in closer, and that addicting warmth she elicited unfurled in the center of my chest.
Sofia might still feel conflicted about what she’d seen me do to those men last night, but her body recognized me as her protector. Somewhere deep in her psyche, her primal brain trusted me, even though she questioned that on a rational level.