Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 159420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 797(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 531(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 797(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 531(@300wpm)
Yup, so much easier than I thought.
I move closer to him, my voice still shy but with a hint of flirtation. “That’s very generous of you.”
He moves closer too. “I am a generous man.”
He’s not talking about his character. Obviously. I flick my gaze down to the thing he is talking about—his junk in his washed-out jeans—and wish I could kick it. Then, looking up, I say, “I’d be stupid to refuse then, wouldn’t I?”
His smirk stays in place while his gaze roams down to my chest again. “How about you let me buy you a drink and we can talk all about this big bad world?”
I look into his eyes—blue—for a couple of seconds, pretending to think it over. Then, “All right, since you asked so nicely. Lead the way.”
A look of satisfaction, stark and almost predatory, flashes through his broad features, and he tips his hat at me. I know he thinks he’s got me, but if anyone’s the hunter between the two of us, it’s me and he’s the bait.
So for the next thirty minutes, I do everything I can to set my trap. I flirt with my mark as much as I can, whose name I learn is Jensen. I smile at him. I laugh at his lame jokes. I touch him. I let him touch me but only to an extent. As in, anything under my dress is off-limits, but I let his fingers linger on my bare thighs. It does make me want to throw up on his boots, but I remind myself it’s all for a good cause. When I suggest getting out of there, Jensen happily and drunkenly agrees, and soon we’re cutting through the crowded bar and walking across the empty parking lot in the back. The night is unusually hot and dark for summer in Montana, and as we pass by the rows of beat-up trucks, my heart picks up speed. It’s racing in my chest, pounding. I’m so close. So fucking close to my prize. My prey. I can taste it.
As soon as we reach Jensen’s black Ram and he opens the door, I move away and say in my best fake apologetic voice, “Oh my God, shit. I just remembered something.”
His brows draw together. “Remembered what?”
“I’m supposed to be at my best friend’s house super early tomorrow,” I lie, infusing my voice with regret. “She’s going away for the summer. The Bahamas. And I’m supposed to help her pack.”
His frown thickens—good—as he almost growls, “What?”
“I know,” I say, shaking my head. “I completely forgot about it. But I think I’m going to have to take a rain check.”
“What the fuck?” he mutters in disbelief.
“It sucks,” I keep lamenting and take a step back from him. “I was so looking forward to being with you. But I have to go now.”
“You have to go,” he repeats.
“But maybe we can meet up some other time, okay?” I say in a breezy tone before I reach up and pat his cheek.
As expected, it enrages him more and he takes a step toward me. He leans down, and his alcohol breath that I’ve been breathing for the past however many minutes makes me want to vomit. “You fuckin’ with me right now?”
I shake my head, giving him a small, cocky smile, my first real one. “Not even a little bit.”
“Are you seriously tellin’ me I wasted my time and my money for absolutely nothing?”
Typical.
“I think you need to back off now,” I tell him, my voice almost bored.
“And I think”—he bends down even more—“you need to stop fuckin’ around and pay up.”
“This is your last warning. Move the fuck away or I’ll start screaming.”
Again, as expected, he doesn’t. “Oh, you’re gonna be screaming, all right.”
With that, he grabs my arms and hauls me into his body before descending over me and pressing his mouth to mine. I bite his lip as soon as he makes contact, making him howl and rear back, and then I do as I told him I would: I start screaming. I start struggling against his hold, trying to get free. But apparently, Jensen is more determined than I thought because his grip barely loosens. If anything, my resistance is making him stronger and rougher. He pushes back with his larger—much larger—body before fisting my dress at my thigh, hauling the fabric up. For the first time tonight, my body clenches in fear. Terror, pure and unadulterated, washes through my system and my screams get louder, more panicked.
Where is he? Where the fuck is he?
He’s supposed to come for me. He’s supposed to rescue me from this. Like he’s been doing for months now. This plan is supposed to work. It’s supposed to fucking work because I don’t know what I’ll do if it doesn’t. I have no other options. Absolutely nothing else to go on and…