Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
The muscles in his bicep flexed subtly when he uncorked the bottle and poured a glass. Holy crap, he was a beautiful man.
“I’d rather have the wine,” I said.
He poured a second and came back to me with a glass in each hand, extending one, frowning at the sheet. When I reached for the glass, he pulled it away. “I should mention this wine comes with strings.”
I paused. “You’re going to have me so wrapped up in your strings I’m not going to be able to move. What are they?”
He smiled. “That we get to do that again.”
“Now?”
His smile hung. “Uh, not right this very moment.”
I took the offered glass and chuckled before I took a sip. “Need a minute, do you?”
This challenge backfired when he took both our glasses and set them on the nightstand. He crawled onto the bed and hovered over me, tugging the sheet out of his way. “How about we focus on you for a while? I can catch up later.” His sinful mouth dipped down, skimming over my cheek, drifting toward my lips. “We have all day.”
As if on cue, his phone chirped with a text message, but it was ignored.
He teased me with his tongue. Its indecent stroke in my mouth was coupled with his hands on my breasts. His thick hair was soft in my hands when I tunneled my fingers through it. I’d just had him and I wanted him again. How was that possible?
But his phone rang, forcing his head up. The bed rocked as he climbed off and dug the ringing phone from his discarded pants, glancing at the screen. “It’s Jason.”
During the ensuing conversation, he bent down and pulled his underwear on, following with his pants.
When the call ended, his gaze lingered over me. “I don’t want to say this, but you should get dressed. The security team will be here in ten minutes.”
I scrambled for my clothes, hurrying, feeling marginally less scattered with them on. My hair was easy enough to get back in place, my feelings much less so. He pulled his arms into his suit jacket but paused when I stepped into the red shoes.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Your shoes.” His gaze was fixed on my heels.
“What about them?”
He came to me, brushing a hand over my cheek. “Never mind.”
I didn’t wait for him to kiss me. This time I took the lead. It was meant to be short and sweet, but that obviously didn’t figure into his plan. Shawn didn’t do short and sweet. Arms wrapped around my back, pulling me tighter, bringing me closer so I was fitted against him.
“What are you doing?” I said.
“I find you distracting.”
The knock on the door made us both stop and separate. An impatient voice came from the hall. “Shawn.”
When he opened the door, a younger, broader, physically intimidating version of Shawn stepped inside, followed by two men in dark suits. Jason’s brown hair was almost the same length as his older brother’s, but he had a few days’ worth of stubble decorating his face. That and his jeans made him look more American than the other Dunn.
Jason’s gaze scanned the room and assessed everything in a moment. I was fully clothed, as was Shawn. We were standing across the way from each other and hadn’t spoken.
But the bed.
It was unmade and two glasses of wine sat together on the side table.
Yesterday, when Shawn had burst from the bedroom in my apartment, I couldn’t have imagined someone could move faster, yet his brother made him look slow. Jason had Shawn slammed against the wall in a heartbeat, a forearm buried into his chest.
It was the same spot where Shawn had pinned me to the wall.
The unexpected burst of violence set both the suited men on edge. They adjusted their stances, ready. There were furious words between the Dunn brothers, and I had no doubt their German was angry.
Jason shoved him away with a final phrase that seemed sobering, and Shawn turned to face me, a strange look in his eyes. Tendrils of cold sweat prickled across my back. What had that argument been about?
Since he was finished antagonizing his brother, Jason came to me.
“Is everything okay with Laurel?” I asked, preempting any lecture he was gearing up to give me.
“Yeah, she’s safe. She wanted to be here, but I convinced her it was too dangerous.”
My sister was almost as headstrong as I was. “That probably wasn’t easy.”
He gave a tight smile. “No, it wasn’t. Are you all right?”
When I nodded, he pulled out his phone, thumbed to something, and handed it to me. The picture on screen showed a man sitting at a table in a plain, white room with metal handcuffs on. His black hair was past due for a cut, and it contrasted too sharply with his light eyebrows. A bored look was plastered on his face, but his eyes . . . Disturbing.