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)
He shook his head. “It could flip a switch. I don’t want to chance it.”
Women fixated on him all the time with intense wide eyes, wanting things from him. Never had a woman stared at him like that, as Charlee did then, wanting things for him.
“What would happen if we tried it?” She wiggled the finger laced with his.
He knew she was testing him with that minute movement against his hand, but his trigger was unpredictable. “Remember the guy curled up on the floor in the dining room?”
She pursed her lips. “Yeah. Okay, better not then.” Her eyes lowered to his nose as if she wasn’t ready to let it go.
That decided it. He would confront the thing that made him like this. He would become a man she could hold, despite his tattered and worn edges. First, he needed to know more about the man who hurt her. “Who took you, Charlee?”
She withdrew her hands and squared her shoulders, but the abused girl emerged in the falter of her breath. “Roy Oxford.”
Did he hear her right? “Roy Oxford?”
She slumped in the chair and let her head fall against the upholstery, turning to look out the window. Maybe to watch the haughty metropolis bustling below. Maybe to avoid his eyes.
“Not the Roy Oxford of Oxford Industries?”
“The same.”
“What?” He leapt to his feet. “He’s like the most powerful man in the world. How is that even possible?”
“That’s exactly how it’s possible.”
He walked the circumference of the room in an attempt to work off his overloaded nerves. With the band’s fame and money, he was accustomed to getting whatever he wanted. But Roy Oxford? Fuck.
Heat swelled through his face. He wanted to hit something. He wanted to destroy the dickhead who raped and hurt her. Deep inhale. Focus on the facts.
He turned to her to ask why a billionaire would kidnap a woman, but looking at her, he had his answer. A man could lose himself in those eyes, those sinful lips. He could become, not a man at all, but a thing controlled by possessiveness and desire. Hadn’t he decided himself only moments before that he’d never let her go?
He yanked on his hair and strode to the door. Nathan stood post on the other side.
Fuck him, but he admired the man even more for watching over her like that. “Will you join us? I’d like to have a word.”
“You’ve calmed your cocaine-fried spaz attack?”
He ground his teeth. In truth, the crash should’ve lasted hours. “Charlee might’ve helped with that.”
Their glares collided, and Nathan’s arrogant chin hardened beneath the stubble. “Charlee is a remedy for many of life’s problems. The people in hers have taken advantage of that. If I find you’re one of them, I will kill you.”
The comment hurt, but it was honest and heartfelt. “I expect nothing less.”
“Tell me, Jay, what is it exactly you do expect?” Nathan crossed his arms. “She’s not the kind of girl you fuck and forget.”
A rash of anger pumped through his muscles as he stepped into Nathan, toe-to-toe. At comparable heights, they might’ve touched noses, but Jay seemed to rise an inch taller with indignation alone. “I didn’t have to fuck her to never forget her, and you better hope to God you can say the same.”
A flinch jerked Nathan’s head back. “No. I mean yes. Jesus, she’s like my sister.” He dragged his fingernails up and down the back of his head. “You should know that she’s relationship-ignorant. If that’s what you’re after, you’re wasting your time.”
Jay held his position in Nathan’s face. “Insult her again. Do it.” His fists clenched at his sides, his voice shaking. “I fucking dare you.”
Nathan looked away, pushed past him through the door and went straight to her.
Jay tried not to lose his shit when she rose from the chair and they bowed their heads together, whispering and nodding. When Nathan removed a small handgun from his boot and positioned it at the small of her back, Jay’s tolerance pulsated at the end of an unraveling rope. He appreciated the necessity for the gun, but the man didn’t have to shove it down her pants.
The territorial tension taking hold of him didn’t dissuade him, but he worried how she would perceive it.
Nathan studied her hands, her expressions. Not her mouth as Jay would’ve done. There was a measure of closeness between them, united in their suffering and in their need for revenge. He also knew with certainty, as Nathan clutched her arm and patted it, the threshold of intimacy had not been crossed. Finally, their eyes shifted to him.
Jay released a breath of conflicting emotions. Confident their relationship was platonic, his stomach twisted over where he would fit in. Dipping his head, he palmed his nape, unsure how to begin. Just fucking say it. He found Nathan’s eyes. “I owe you an apology. I misjudged you. I was an asshole and I’m sorry.” Sincerity softened his voice.