Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 102546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
“Malibu,” I answer.
She lets out a sigh of relief that she’s not in another country. As far as I know, she’s never been anywhere except for Las Vegas and Italy.
“Promise me,” I order.
Her eyes snap up to mine and narrow. “Promise you what?”
“That you won’t call anyone other than me.” I need to hear her say it. Or maybe I’m just biding my time not to leave her. Once I walk out of this house, she’s on her own, and I can’t protect her if I’m not here.
“I won’t call anyone but you,” she says, unable to look me in the eyes. A clear sign she’s lying.
Gripping her chin, I shove her head back, glaring down at her. “This isn’t a game.”
“I’m not …”
“Quit fucking lying to me,” I growl, cutting her off. “You will put others in danger.”
She yanks away and rubs her chin. “But you expect me to believe that you don’t mind putting yourself in danger?” She snorts. “Yeah, I highly doubt that. You’re like everyone else and don’t give a fuck about me.”
I fist my hands but don’t respond because the events that have led us to this moment would prove any argument I have to be a lie.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she pushes her hip out. The one that has the torn slit up her thigh, and I can see her hipbone. My eyes trace along the black lace thong that I know covers her pussy, and I run a hand down my face.
Leave, Bones.
My mind yells, but I can’t make my legs move. Once I walk out of my house, there will be no reason to return because I know this woman will never call me for anything. I should have fucking left before she woke up.
“Anything else?” she demands, glaring up at me.
Deciding that’s my sign to get the fuck out of here, I start to walk toward the front door. But before I can exit the living room, I come to a stop. Turning back to face her, I notice she stiffens when I look at her.
Knowing this will be my only chance, I walk back to her, and she takes a step back, but thankfully, the couch stops her retreat. “One more thing.” I come up to her, cup her face with both of my hands, holding her still, and her head falls back. Silvery-blue eyes the size of quarters stare up at me with mixed emotions—half terror and confusion. I lick my lips. Then I lower mine to hers.
She gasps, her lips parting on mine. I don’t force my tongue down her throat or shove her onto her back like I want. Instead, I keep my lips on hers, tasting the bourbon from the drugs I gave her. I let them linger for a few seconds, and when I pull away, I watch her eyes flutter open. She looks dazed, almost in a dream-like state. But I can’t ignore the way her body leans into mine as if she needs me to help hold her up.
I run my thumb over her lips, and I’m not even sure she’s breathing right now. Without another word, I turn and exit the house, leaving her behind like I was supposed to do all along.
MIA
I STAND ROOTED to my spot in the living room and listen to the front door open and close. The mysterious man bought me, drugged me, and kissed me. And then walked out of my life, knowing I’ll never see him again.
I taste the bourbon from his kiss. I’ve never liked the smell of alcohol, let alone had a drink. He forced some down my throat, and now I lick my lips, savoring the taste.
My knees buckle, and I fall onto the couch, the room filling with my heavy breathing. Reaching up, I run my shaking fingers over my parted lips. Did he know that was my first kiss? Why did he do it? He could have forced me to do so much more. Yet all he did was touch his lips to mine. I wanted to kiss him back. My mind was yelling that would be my only chance at not being myself.
Once again, I’m alone. The fact that he was forward didn’t terrify me. It was the way my body reacted. My skin tingled, blood rushing in my ears, and I couldn’t breathe.
I froze.
Blinking, I drop my eyes to the phone on the coffee table. Opening up the contacts, there’s only one programmed—Dillan. I ignore that number, and my fingers numbly run over the screen, unable to stop myself.
I have no control.
Holding the phone to my ear, it rings once, twice. Just when I think he’s not going to answer. It stops, the sound of silence meeting me on the other end.
“He-llo.” I swallow the lump in my throat and realize I’m shaking.