Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
The new position was so deep. I was so close. My body trembled as I fought against it with everything I had. Lightning sparked overhead at the moment I lost and the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced crested over me.
It wasn’t gentle and romantic.
It wasn’t a relaxing release that left you floating, devoid of tension.
It was terrifying, savage, animalistic, and inevitable.
He slid his hand up from my waist, palming me as he closed around me and tensed, pouring his hot come deep inside me as he released a low guttural groan.
He kept his grip on me and fell to his side, holding me tight.
His heavy breath fanned my neck as his hand reflexively tightened on me. His cock was still in me as he tucked me against his chest and rasped against my temple, “You’re mine now. I will never let you go.”
My body didn’t listen. It should have recoiled. Instead, my muscles went slack. My breathing steadied to match his. My hand, which had been braced to push him away, dropped to his forearm.
I loathed every second of that surrender. The small, involuntary one that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with the sick truth that in his arms, for the first time in months, I felt safe.
Oh. My. God.
I’d just traded one prison for another.
CHAPTER 25
HAILEY
My head throbbed. As I reached for my bedside table to grab some aspirin, my fingers brushed soft, warm ridges of wood. Not the chipped laminate I was used to.
I opened my eyes, expecting gentle morning light filtering through my gauzy curtains, and the lingering scent of the lavender fabric softener I preferred. Instead, I was met with darkness and the trace of a man’s cologne.
My hand ran down my side and over the top of my thigh. Relieved at the rough brush of denim under my palm, I moved my hand higher, grateful when the buttons of my blouse pressed into the center of my palm. At least I was fully dressed. Small comfort.
Slowly, the fog lifted as memories of my conversation with Greyson in the conservatory returned to me.
We were arguing over Madison and...and something else. I rubbed my temples, willing the memories to return.
Piece by piece, they slid into place.
I had taken a big gulp of Scotch on a completely empty stomach. Not my finest moment.
It didn’t help that breakfast was half a protein bar I’d found in my purse while I was waiting in line to get into court this morning, and lunch was a complete miss. In my defense, I had planned on eating before I was sidetracked by being kidnapped by one of the hottest men I’d ever seen.
My stomach growled, and I realized that was what woke me.
The Scotch had settled into my gut and detonated. I remembered stumbling, then muscular arms holding me close.
I closed my eyes.
Memories came back in flashes. Scratchy. Out of focus. Entire scenes missing.
My fingers twisted in Greyson’s collar.
Madison.
Gunfire.
Pierce.
The splatter of rain against the windowpanes.
Jameson.
My heart beat faster. My body was reacting to something my mind hadn’t caught up to yet.
I clenched my fists, digging my nails deep into my palms.
Jameson was alive.
The rat bastard wasn’t dead.
My eyes sprang open; it all came back to me.
Not only was Jameson alive, but Greyson had been the one to help him fake his death. He wouldn’t help me save Madison. Pierce had her, and someone needed to help her and that someone had to be me.
How the hell was Jameson still alive? What did Greyson gain from helping him? He may have looked like Superman, but that man was more Lex Luthor with good hair plugs.
There would be plenty of time for guilt-ridden tirades over a glass of wine later. Or a bottle... maybe two.
Right now, I had to get out of here and find Madison.
I went for my back pocket, but my cell phone wasn’t there. Greyson must have taken it.
Glancing to the side, I could see it wasn’t on the nightstand. Of course it wasn’t going to be that easy. There also wasn’t a clock. I had absolutely no idea how long I had been asleep or what time it could be.
My gaze swung to the door.
It was closed, but perhaps he underestimated how long I’d be out. Maybe I’d finally get lucky and he left it unlocked.
I searched the darkness of the room, using the bits of dim, fragmented light seeping around the heavy curtains at the windows to seek any signs of movement. There were none.
I was alone. At least I thought I was…
I tilted my head back to survey the ceiling and each corner of the room, looking for security cameras or a telltale blinking red light. Rich assholes were known for liking their high-end security, and a red blinking light tended to clash with old money decor.