Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
“I told you I’d take you home,” he says through gritted teeth.
I press my back into the seat. He’s so close, I feel his breath on my face, smell his smell that still does something to me.
A moment later, he’s speeding to my house, seeming to know every street and every alley. The car moves fast, swerving around the slower vehicles and pissing off more people than I can count.
I reach into my purse and wrap my hand around the pepper spray, and when we get to my apartment building, I’m not sure what to do.
He parks the car at the curb, not in a parking space but just right there. I clear my throat, hand still around that canister as I reach with the other to open my door. My heart is racing, has been during the entire time of this second drive.
But before I can open my door, he’s out and around the car and opens my door for me. He wraps a hand around my arm to pull me out.
“I’m coming,” I try as I stumble out, my purse falling off my lap, my wallet and keys spilling to the ground.
He doesn’t look at those things though. His gaze is on the pepper spray. When he meets my eyes, which I’m sure are like those of a deer in headlights, he just snorts, shakes his head and closes his giant hand around my wrist, then releases my arm to use that hand to pry the pepper spray from me.
“Smart to have that,” he says. “You should always have pepper spray. You never know when you’ll need it,” he adds, keeping hold of my wrist as he bends to pick up my fallen purse and keys. He drops the canister into my bag and walks me to the door.
“Roommate home?”
I shake my head, knowing Rachel is at work.
Using my key, he unlocks the door and walks me inside. He stands there a moment and looks around, and I see it how he must see it. Small and ugly and a little sad.
“Your room?”
“Uh…”
He tugs me to him, holding my wrist at a painful angle. “Your room,” he repeats.
“Last one.” I point down the hall.
He walks toward it, and I follow because I have no choice. He opens my bedroom door, and we step inside. He closes it, and once again, he stops, taking in the messy space. The unmade bed. The clothes strewn over the back of a chair and on the floor.
“You’re a mess,” he says.
“Lev?”
He walks me into the bathroom, eyes the other door of the shared space and locks it from the inside.
I sneeze, suddenly shivering.
“Get undressed,” he says. “You’re going to catch a cold.”
He still has hold of my wrist as he pushes the shower curtain back and runs the water, testing the temperature before shifting the flow to the shower.
When he turns back to me and sees I’m still dressed, he raises his eyebrows.
“My hand,” I say, my voice trembling.
He nods, releases it, and watches as I peel off my jacket, drop it to the ground, then my shirt, which is soaked through. I drop that too, but when it comes to undoing my jeans, my hands are too shaky to unbutton them.
“Christ,” he says, gripping the waistband of my jeans and tugging me to him, and I realize again how much bigger than me he is. Taller and so much stronger.
His eyes are almost black again, and I see the hunger and desire I saw last night. He holds my gaze as he undoes my jeans, and with his other hand, he grabs the back of my head and pulls me to him. His mouth, wet with rain, on mine, kisses me with a fierce hunger as he unzips my jeans.
I make a sound, wanting him again. I’m turned on by this violence, which I know is sick and wrong, but it’s how I’m wired. How I learned sex is.
And so, when he grips my hair and pulls my head back, I’m panting, and I want more.
He spins me around, putting my hands on the edge of the sink.
“Don’t move.” He gets behind me so I can see him in the mirror. He pushes the hair off my neck and kisses my thudding pulse, then bites just hard enough to hurt as he slides one hand inside my jeans and panties and cups my sex.
I moan with the contact, his fingers roughly kneading my clit, rougher than he was last night.
“Lev.” I turn my head to kiss him.
He tugs my wet jeans down over my hips and pushes me forward a little. I look at him looking down at me, then feel a hard smack.
I gasp, meeting his black eyes in the mirror.
“I should have spanked your ass for the night at the club, but I thought I gave you enough of a scare at the restaurant.”