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)
“You said you weren’t going to hurt me.”
“There are other ways to get you to be still.”
He knew the perfect way. All he had to do was put his mouth on me. I took in air in controlled sips, trying to get my heartrate down to a level that didn’t have blood rushing in my ears.
“Are you scared of your feelings about me?” he asked.
I didn’t answer. I was frightened by the thoughts of murder in my head, but much more terrified of what he might do.
“It’s okay,” he said in a hushed voice. He let go of one of my arms so he could brush my hair behind an ear. “I’m frightened, too.”
I tried to tell him to stop, but he kissed me, muting my words. I leaned away from him, until there was nowhere else to go; my back was buried into the couch. When I tried to run, he just pressed his mouth against mine harder, driving me deeper into the cushions. And his hand on my arm gripped me so tightly, I winced.
“Are you uncomfortable?” He pulled back and viewed me with a discerning look.
Was he completely oblivious? “Extremely.”
He stood abruptly, dragged me up beside him. The rapid movement made my head pound.
“Come here,” he murmured, backing up to the bed.
“No,” I said, trying not to sound too alarmed. “I was uncomfortable because of what you were doing.”
“Stop resisting what we both know is inevitable.” His shockingly blue eyes cut into me. “You will give me what I want.”
Heat poured through my veins like lava, thick and consuming. He wasn’t the first man to say that to me. “I’d rather die.”
His mouth opened to respond, to call me a liar, but I wasn’t. He considered something, either options or perhaps my death. “It doesn’t have to be like this. I can make you . . . forget. I can make you forget everything before me.”
Any fear he’d caused before was nothing compared to this. He’d proven he was capable of it. It was what he’d done to Laurel when he’d abducted her. He could wipe everything away until he was all that was left.
I’d changed my life to accommodate Paul, but this was a whole new level. I’d lose who I was completely. I wouldn’t know the man with me was a monster. And I wouldn’t remember Shawn.
“Is that what you want?” he threatened. “Can you move past it, or do you need my help?”
I swallowed hard and fought back the wave of terror promising to overtake me if my control slipped. Survive. They were coming for me, possibly on their way now.
Wait, survive? Forget it.
I wanted to fight. “I can move past it.”
The corners of his mouth turned up into a victorious smile. It made thoughts of bashing his face in with the nearby lamp flash through my mind.
“Prove it,” he said. “Get on the bed.”
“I want to know what you’re going to do to me.”
“I’m sorry, have I been unclear about that?” It came from him more surprised than condescending.
I took a step toward the bed, to him, my calm demeanor in place. “I want specifics.”
“Specifics?” he repeated.
“Yes.” It would be easier to plan my attack if I knew his.
“We’re going to have sex.”
My stomach twisted, but I kept my face plain. “That’s too broad of a statement.”
“Come on, I don’t want to spell it out. I’ll just show you.” He put his hands on my waist and pulled me up against him.
“I need to know what I’m allowed to do,” I said, holding perfectly still as his arms snaked around my body, his lips on my neck. I let my revulsion strengthen my control over myself.
“What do you mean?”
“Can I go down on you?”
Shit. Should have been subtler.
He gave me an evil, knowing grin. “When I trust you, absolutely. But, darling, we’re not there yet.”
I swallowed thickly. “Can I touch you?”
“Of course,” he said, his eyes shining. “I’m allowed to touch you?”
He hated the word no, so it stood to reason he liked the opposite one. I nodded slowly. “Yes.”
There was worry that I might burst into hysterical, nervous laughter when I opened my mouth, but it didn’t happen. The hand on my back slid upward and slowly around the curve of my body, heading for my breasts. As I’d hoped, the permission had knocked his defenses down.
I turned as quickly as I could and wrapped my hands around the heavy lamp, swinging it toward him. I’d brought a man down with a skillet, and I was ready to add this lamp to my list of unconventional weapons.
He was unprepared . . . but he had lightning-fast reflexes. He spun away so only his shoulder caught the edge of the blow. The impact thundered up my arms as I swung again—
A foot crashed into my hip and sent me flying. I gasped as my body cracked hard against the wooden slat of the bedframe. The collision knocked the lamp from my hands, and when it hit the ground, the light bulb shattered in a flash of bright light.