Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
And yet here I am, right back where I started. Hook might not have set up his headquarters in the same house Peter dominated, but so much of it is the same. Various people, all obviously armed, moving about with purpose in their steps and violence in their eyes. One doesn’t run an entire territory through charm alone. Threats must be delivered and examples must be made. And Hook does it all. He wouldn’t be able to hold his power without getting his hands dirty.
Rationally, I know he’s nowhere near as evil as Peter is. I’m not even sure he’s evil at all. But he chose to take over this territory, and that decision more than speaks for itself.
Hook doesn’t quite drag me through the halls, but I have to step fast to keep up with his longer strides. I try to memorize the building’s layout, but though it seems like a straightforward business from the outside, the inside has been completely gutted and renovated into something else entirely. We move through what feel like smaller apartments, hallways, and then a living room, and then another hallway. It’s really brilliant as a way of forcing an invading enemy into pinch point after pinch point, but it’s discombobulating. I’m lost before we make it halfway through the main floor, and that irritates the hell out of me.
He hauls me to an elevator and ushers me inside. The second we’re behind closed doors, I yank my arm free. “Manhandling is not sexy.”
“I beg to differ.”
I ignore the innuendo in his low voice. I may have intentionally blocked out his presence in the Underworld whenever I could, but there was no escaping the end-of-shift reports with my fellow employees. We were information gatherers, and everything we learned went into the impressive files Meg keeps on anyone of interest in Carver City.
I know more about what gets Hook off than I have any right to. I also know that he’s been paying attention to me this entire time. He knows my kinks. He’s seen them on display. I can’t think about that too hard or I won’t be able to fight the blush buzzing beneath my skin. “Not like this,” I manage.
“Okay,” he agrees easily.
I give him a sharp look, trying to sense the shape of the trap he’s letting me walk right into. Hook might fake being agreeable, but he is faking it. I don’t know why Hook won’t move on Peter without this sham of a marriage, but I can’t afford to be picky right now. Not when I can still feel that bastard’s fingers digging into my wrist. It will bruise, and that pisses me the fuck off. These days, the only bruises on my body are the ones I want there. Not from him. Never again from him.
The doors slide open, and Hook ambles out into a massive bedroom. I whistle before I can stop myself. The ceiling arches high above us, and it’s made entirely of glass. I bet at night, the stars look close enough to touch. It’s a struggle to drag my gaze back down to earth and the room itself. It’s set up in a studio style with a surprisingly top-of-the-line kitchen taking up space on the left and a series of hardwood wardrobes on the right, half of which look like they’re in the process of vomiting clothing onto the floor. Seeing that chaos makes my blood pressure rise to dangerous levels, so I turn to the wall that appears to be made of vaguely translucent tile. The door next to it confirms it as the bathroom, and when I walk over to investigate, I roll my eyes. The entire wall is the shower, which means anyone standing there will be outlined almost perfectly for viewing from the rest of the room. Great.
Then there’s nowhere else to look but at the bed. It’s large enough that only the term orgy-sized would fit. Considering the scenes I’ve witnessed Hook participate in, that doesn’t surprise me in the least.
I want to hate the whole room. I really do. But it’s weirdly cozy and decadent and as long as I don’t look at how he disrespects his clothing, I kind of like it.
I point at the bed. “You had damn well better change the sheets if you want me anywhere near that thing.”
Hook drops onto the edge of the mattress and, good god, that’s a scene right out of the fantasies I refuse to admit to having. The top few buttons of his shirt have come undone somewhere along the way, and the deep V of his medium brown skin with a dusting of dark hair actually makes my mouth water. He leans back, letting me look my fill.
To annoy him, I do exactly that. Or at least that’s what I tell myself as I let my gaze roam over the strength in his shoulders and way his thighs fill out those slacks. I save his hair for last. It’s almost as long as mine and thick enough that I’m envious. I need creative use of a straightener and a whole lot of product to achieve the same amount of wave in my hair. Hook’s is all natural.