Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
“You don’t like it?”
“I do, it’s very comfortable, but…” It’s easier just to show him, so I step into the room and his gaze drops right to my nipples, standing proudly erect against the soft fabric.
Silvan smirks. “You do like it.”
My cheeks warm and I cross my arms over my chest. “Obviously, I need more coverage than this.”
“Maybe we should have breakfast in bed today,” he decides, his hungry gaze locked on my tits despite my attempt to cover them.
My eyes widen. “Is that an option?”
I’d much prefer breakfast alone with Silvan than downstairs with his scary dad.
His gaze lifts to my face. “Do you want it to be?”
“Yes,” I say, unable to entirely tamp down my enthusiasm.
“Then of course it’s an option. And what we’re doing.” Leaning back, he reaches for his phone on the nightstand and shoots off what I assume is a text. “Done.” He replaces the phone as soon as he’s finished and pats the mattress beside him. “Now, get your pretty little ass back in bed.”
“You’re so good to me,” I say lightly as I pull the bathroom door shut behind me and pad over to the bed. “Best kidnapper ever.”
“I appreciate the acknowledgment, but I won’t let my head get too big over it. That’s probably a pretty easy category to win.”
I slide beneath the blanket and settle it over my lap. “How does breakfast in bed work? I don’t think I’ve ever eaten in bed except for a couple of times when I was sick as a kid and my mom made me chicken noodle soup.”
“One of the servants will bring up a cart in a few minutes.”
“One of the servants, he says.” I shake my head at what a ridiculous notion it is.
He shrugs. “I’ve always had servants. It’s normal to me.”
“When you were a kid, did your mom bring you soup when you were sick, or did the servants?”
“A combination of both. My mom is a nurturer, so she always stepped in with the human component, but we had servants, so they helped make it easy for her. They made the soup; she sat at my bedside touching my forehead with the back of her hand and looking sad that she couldn’t fix my run-of-the-mill illness for me.”
I watch his face, picking up on a certain guardedness when he talks about his mom. “Are you guys close?” He looks over at me. “You and your mom?”
“Yeah, sure, we’re close,” he says, but even the way he says it is in a trailing off way that tells me there’s more to the story.
“Spill,” I command.
He cocks an eyebrow at my bossiness, but gives me a little more, anyway. “There’s nothing to spill. She’s a good mom.”
“But?”
“No but.”
He’s lying, so I stare at him with my eyebrows raised expectantly.
Finally, he shrugs, looking away. “She’s maybe not the best wife.”
I frown because that seems utterly opposite of what I’ve witnessed in my short time here. She and his dad seem obscenely happy. Hell, I literally watched the woman drop everything to refill her husband’s coffee like some 50s throwback. “Really? How so?”
He looks at me. “Don’t say anything.”
“I won’t.”
“She cheats.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
“I know my dad’s not the easiest guy to be with, but it’s what she signed up for, you know? He’s not the worst, either, and he does make an effort for her. It’s not like he’s some uncaring asshole who just doesn’t give a shit, but he is who he is. And she knew who he was and supposedly loved him going into it, that’s why she chose to marry him. It’s supposed to be for better or worse, right? A commitment. You should be able to rely on those, but I guess someone’s word is only as good as…” He shakes his head. “You’ve gotta consider the source. Guess she’s not reliable.”
I frown. None of that matches my impression of them. “They both seem happy. Your father certainly seems happy with her, and your mom seems to go out of her way for him. I would imagine layers and layers of resentment if their relationship was like the one you’re describing.”
“Right? Me too.” He shakes his head. “Their dynamic is weird. Maybe I don’t entirely get it.”
“Maybe they only seemed that way to me because someone was watching. Some people are different with an audience.”
“Nah. They’re loved up in private, too.”
“Does your dad… sleep around?”
He shakes his head. “Like I said, he only has eyes for her.”
“Hm. I was gonna say, maybe they’re swingers or something.”
He shakes his head. “Definitely not swingers. It’s cheating. There’s no consent involved. My dad doesn’t like it, he just… loves her too much or something, I don’t know.”
“Well, whatever the situation, it must work for them. Maybe we don’t get it, but they’re happier than any married couple I’ve ever seen, so they must be doing something right.”