Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 168121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 841(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 168121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 841(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
Accepting the pages with numb fingers, Jay didn’t need to read them. He knew her what her therapy entailed. Intimately. Every muscle in his body readied in preparation to kill a motherfucking Dom. “Which room?” He twisted around Nathan.
His back hit the wall, pinned beneath Nathan’s weight.
“She thinks you betrayed her.” Nathan shoved his forearm against Jay’s jugular, applying enough pressure to prick a burn behind his eyes. “I’ve watched her endure an ungodly amount of suffering over the years. She’s hurting. This is the only way she knows how to deal with it. Look…” Nathan released him and yanked the contract from his hand, opening it to the second page. “See? She excluded all sexual activity from the scene. She’s here for the pain.”
Jay read the paragraph twice. Flipping to the beginning, he read the entire contract, each section shedding more light on her therapy.
Stepping back, Nathan rubbed his eyes. “I know why she does this, but I hate it. Makes me sick. She needs treatment, Jay. Conventional treatment. She’s broken inside.”
The hairs on Jay’s nape bristled, and a fevered vehemence swelled through him. “Nothing about her is broken. She’s the strongest fucking person you will ever have the privilege of knowing. Say that shit again and you’ll be eating through a straw for the rest of your miserable life. Got me?”
Nathan’s brows shot up his forehead, and his mouth hung open. Then his cheeks twitched, and his gaping mouth spread into a toothy grin. “Last door at the end of the hall.”
Purpose surged through Jay’s blood as he weaved through the crowd of bodyguards, past the living room and down the hall. He could break down the door, raise ten kinds of fist-swinging hell, and distress her more than he already had. Or he could knock, ask to observe, and maybe gain more insight into how he could give her what she needed.
He raised his fist and tapped on the door. After a painfully long moment and one…two…three lock clicks, the door cracked to the length of a short chain.
Two narrowed eyes peered out, widened. “Well, I’ll be damned. Jay Mayard from The Burn is standing in my hallway.”
“Fucking hell.” Charlee’s adorable mutter floated through the crack and nuzzled his heart.
The eyes behind the door vanished as the man turned his back. “Is he the emotional barrier?”
“The worst kind.” Venom tightened her voice.
Jay choked. Worse than Roy? He couldn’t condemn her anger, but fuck, that didn’t make it any easier to swallow. “I’m the boyfriend. I get that she hates me. I just need one minute to change her mind about that.”
“Go away, Jay.” A muffled stomp accompanied her shout.
One kick. One fucking kick would snap the chain on the door, and he’d be in the path of her gorgeous—albeit furious—glare. Big breath. “Charlee, please don’t make me do this from the hallway. I’m only asking for one minute.”
The silence was so stifling he thought he might pass out from the anxiety of it.
“Sixty seconds,” she said. “Then Master Conrad has permission to toss your deceitful, cheating ass to the curb.”
Ouch. That was vicious, but if she’d been indifferent and numb he would’ve been more worried. He could deal with her ire.
The door snapped shut and reopened all the way. Only one end of the room was visible. She was hidden around the corner. Master Conrad stepped aside and locked them in.
As Jay sized him up, he knew the other man was doing the same. Alpha male? Yep. Wielding weapons? Nope, unless Jay counted the guy’s fifty extra pounds of muscle. That settled, he moved around the bend and froze.
Sweet Mother of God. Bent at the waist with legs spread, Charlee’s ass arched up and out in a trussed offering. Her wrists and elbows were bound together behind her back. A long rope connected her wrists to a point on the ceiling, raising them at a horizontal position in relation to her torso, forcing her to double over. His mouth went dry.
Her hair hung in sheets from her inverted head, reaching for the floor. A metal rod connected one ankle to the other, forcing her feet to stand wider than her shoulders.
Every inch of her flawless skin was on display, but he couldn’t drag his eyes from the visual feast between her legs. Her folds were swollen and glistening. The tiny pucker of her ass peeked between her spread cheeks.
His face heated, and his cock engorged. She was his, and he shook with the primal impulse to prove it.
He rolled his shoulders and reminded himself that she was probably mortified having him see her like this, considering the gut-wrenching position he was in the last time she saw him. He was there to soothe her and help her.
Moving toward her, he remembered he wasn’t alone. Another fucking man shared his glorious view. A sideways glance confirmed Conrad didn’t have a hard-on, and his eyes weren’t directed below Charlee’s waist. That saved the man from an automatic beat down.