Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 98(@200wpm)___ 78(@250wpm)___ 65(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 98(@200wpm)___ 78(@250wpm)___ 65(@300wpm)
Now that I've heard this conversation, I can't leave Cecilia’s fate up to that animal. I can't get back to my little doll fast enough. One of the men grabs her, but before he can lift her out of the chair, I am on him. Repeatedly, I punch the one who decided he could touch what’s mine. Cecilia sits there shocked, but quiet. The other goon doesn't look like he knows what to do. He looks back and forth between me and Cecilia. He can’t seem to make the decision to come after me in order to save his partner or go for my girl. I make that choice for him by giving him a right hook to the face followed up by an uppercut. He falls down in a heap.
With both of these motherfuckers out, I don't have time to explain what's going on to my little doll. They could wake up at any second. Too bad we aren't at a place where I can kill them, but I don't want to frighten her any more than she already is.
“Don’t scream, doll face,” I say as I lift her into my arms, pull her close to my chest and take off with her. Thankfully, she does as I ask. The first feel of her weight on me sends zings of electricity through my body.
At thirty-four, I have no fucking business thinking about how soft her tits are pressed against my chest, but they are, and I can't help it. She is going to be mine in every single way.
I have no real plan other than getting her to safety.
Once we are in my car, I buckle her up. It's late, but I know I made the right call.
“Where are we going?” she asks softly.
I say the only thing that comes to mind.
“Home.”
Chapter Two
Cecilia Preston
Home. I've never had one of those. I know better than to want that. Wishful thinking doesn't get you anywhere. That's what happens when your mother despises you and tells you she wishes you were never born. I learned early on that it would just hurt worse if I dreamed of a home with the white picket fence, a loving mother and father maybe a few siblings but Jessica Preston was no mother of the year. Hell, if I hadn't learned how to take care of myself, I would have starved.
She has fucked so many men she doesn't even know who my father is. I guess that comes with being a porn star and shoving shit up her nose. I grew up in the porn industry, not even high-quality porn at that. No, I am talking the sleezy ones where they don’t give a fuck if you take your five-year-old daughter to the shoot. She just plopped me in an empty room and left me there until she was done with the filming. There was no TV in the rooms, so I learned early on how to read.
I love reading. It’s an amazing way to escape my reality. In books, I can go to different worlds, visit exotic places, and imagine myself as the heroine. A heroine that a big strong man takes far away from this place. I can pretend that it is me getting my happily ever after. But that's just it, it's all pretend in that there is no way that shit happens in real life. So, I have no idea what the fuck is going on or who those guys are or why they were trying to grab me but they didn’t look like they had good intentions where it concerned me though otherwise I would have screamed when Gerard picked me up bridal style and pulled me close to his chest. If I had felt unsafe, I would have.
It was the complete opposite though. I have never felt so safe in my life. Man alive, he's handsome. I have thought so since the first second I saw him. He is the sexiest man I have ever seen. He has to be at least 6’2 with short dirty blond hair, hazel eyes framed with thick long lashes, high cheekbones, a square jaw that shows just a hint of a five o'clock shadow. He must spend a lot of time at the gym because he is built like a linebacker. His three-piece suit looked so out of place in that hellhole, but in his fancy-ass sports car, he looks right at home. We leave the studio lot and head down Clark Avenue, away from the casinos. We make our way out of the strip and are driving at least ninety miles an hour down the highway. My head is spinning with how fast we are going, and I am afraid I am going to puke all over the inside of his car.
“Hey G, any way we can slow it down? I'm going to throw up all over your ride,” I mumble. He doesn't say anything, but I feel the car start to slow down but I don't think by much. I don't dare look up to check so I look over at him. The silence overwhelms me. My mind coming up with a hundred different reasons those men were trying to grab me, none of them good.