Her eyes leave mine as she adjusts herself in the bed, her body rolling over as she pulls the covers up and over her head. I must have misread her. I thought for sure she was going to strike back with something.
“Are we done playing games already?” I taunt her, walking over to the bed and sliding into my spot. She scoots closer to her side, as if getting away from me is her number one priority. That’s too bad because getting closer to her is my number one priority.
Reaching out, I put my hand under the blanket and latch onto her arm. A squeal escapes her mouth as I pull her toward me. Of course she has to fight me.
“Let. Go. Of. Me,” she grits out every word as she tries to shake me off. Does she think she can win? Does she think I won’t hurt her?
“Nope.” I pull harder until she is on my side of the bed, and I am leaning over her. Our chests are pushed against one another’s, and her breaths are coming in at a rate that is way higher than normal…
“Stop,” she breathes out. It suddenly dawns on me that I know nothing about her, nothing other than her father owes me quite a bit of money. However, I am enjoying our current interaction too much to think much of it.
“Why?” I ask, cocking my head. I am not touching her, at least not like I want to be touching her.
“I don’t even know you. We don’t know each other.”
I laugh a full-on belly shaking laugh… “Then why the fuck would you even volunteer to come with me? You do realize that you, well, mostly your body, will be paying your father’s debt, don’t you? Every moan, groan, orgasm, and every spread of those legs will be payment.”
Her eyes dilate as her breaths become pants. She couldn't have been that far gone; she had to have known that she would be coming here for so much more than just helping me. Suddenly, she finds her voice.
“I didn't have any other option. I would rather be taken than lose my only other parent.” Something about what she says tugs at my heart and in turn pulls me out of the haze that is consuming me. I can tell myself over and over again that I don’t have a heart, but every word that comes from her mouth reminds me that I do.
“Roll over and go to sleep,” I grudgingly command, standing from the bed. She looks at me in confusion, wrinkles marring her beautiful face. I will give her that: she is beautiful unlike anything I am used to. Her face is soft, her cheeks full, and she radiates youthfulness. Her nose is small, and her teeth are straight and white. She is simple, but at the same time not so simple you wouldn’t notice her.
“Did I finally hit a sore spot?” she taunts, sitting up from her lying position. It is strange seeing a woman in my bed.
“No. You merely reminded me that I can’t care for the wounded, sick little puppies like yourself.” It is a knee jerking response to fire back a shitty remark.
Her thoughts on Alzerro ‘Zerro’ King:
“ When your own character causes you to blush, you know you're doing a damn good job. Watch out for his dirty mouth, it'll get you every time. “
J.L. Beck is the Author of Bittersweet Revenge, Bittersweet Love, Bittersweet Hate, Bittersweet Symphony and Bittersweet Trust. She lives in Elroy, WI with her husband Brandon, and daughter Bella.
Since the moment she could reach the shelves on the bookshelf she’s been reading, thus influencing her to write. Her favorite books are those that leave an imprint on your soul. You know the ones that have you putting everything off because you have to find out what happens next.
When she’s not writing or reading (of course) you can find her picking up after her three year old daughter, or explaining to her husband why its unsafe to do something any other way, than the way your wife told you too.
Shes a huge fan of all things drama, with shows like The Vampire Diaries, and Arrow being some of her favorites. She’s addicted to all things social media, caffeine, and Starbucks.
You know you want to. (Her words, not ours so it’s totally OKAY!)
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GRAPHICS BY KEISHA AT GIVEMEBOOKS (GMB)
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