Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 73423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
The glinting knife inches closer and closer, and I close my eyes, not wanting to see the finish line.
SNAP!
The tie wrapped between my wrists drops off.
My eyes flutter, a panicked heart reminding me my blood is still pumping through my veins. I’m still here. I’m alive. He didn’t kill me.
I breathe a few ragged breaths as he slowly slides off me and tucks the knife back into his pocket. After a while, I push myself up from the bed, staring him down.
Why did he release me?
What’s going on?
“Why did you …?” I can’t even finish my sentence because of the way he looks at me.
His presence is as overwhelming as his size, not to mention the killer look in his eyes. I bet he could end my life before I could even blink.
Goose bumps scatter on my skin.
Did he free me because of something I said?
Because I told him I’d do anything to live?
“If you want money, I can get you what you need,” I say.
I don’t know how, but I can make it happen. I have my own account, and if push comes to shove, I can always call the bank and ask about my father’s account.
“I don’t need your money,” the man growls back.
What else could he want from me? Unless …
I swallow and inch closer to the bed, ignoring the fear settling in my heart when I look at this beast of a man. I slip closer and closer under his watchful eye, and without a second thought, I go to my knees in front of him.
His eyes narrow as my hands approach his belt slow and steadily so I don’t push him into retaliation. I don’t want him to see me as a threat. I don’t have any weapons.
All I have is my body.
And if I can use it to stay safe, I will, even if it goes against every fiber of my being.
I pull at his belt until it comes loose loop by loop and drops to the floor. His eyes never leave mine as I open his button and pull at the zipper, which has to cross a substantial bulge. In fact, the second it’s all down, I actually gulp at the size.
Am I able to do this?
What other choice do I have?
I tug at the band of his underwear, but he grabs my wrist and pulls it away from his crotch even though I was about to pull it down.
His hand slides down the smooth gloves and curls underneath the fabric. When he’s about to pull it up, I tear out of his grip.
He eyes me down with disdain.
“I … I want to keep the gloves on,” I say, swallowing.
His jaw tightens as I move back to his belt, but he pushes my hand away every time I try.
Doesn’t he want this?
Every man wants this, right?
If he doesn’t want my money, this is all I have left to offer to save myself. So why won’t he let me?
“I don’t get it. Why would you bring me to a hotel if you didn’t want something from me?”
His eyes narrow, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and for some reason, my eyes fixate on it.
“I want …” His voice is dark, heavy, as though each word strains him.
He groans and throws my wrist aside, then walks to the window and slides the curtains aside to take a peek. Without moving an inch, I check out the room, the bed, the chair, the cabinet, and the hairdryer on top. The door that uses a card to lock.
A card I do not have.
I count the windows and try to peek outside to see where we are, but the curtains immediately close once his eyes land on mine.
“We will stay here,” he says.
“How long?” I ask, but instead of answering, he charges to the door and turns off the lights.
The room is covered in shadow, and my heart skips a beat. I can’t see anything, but I can hear him.
Suddenly, I feel his weight bear down on the bed, and I flinch.
In the darkness, all I can do is listen to the sounds.
The creaks in the bed.
The thrumming of my heart.
The rhythmic breaths … coming closer and closer.
Until his hand slips around my arm.
He pulls me with him down onto the bed, my head flopping down on a pillow, and I struggle to breathe as he drags me close to him. His hand moves down my body to my belly, and I suck in hard as he pushes me against him … against his half-hard bulge.
A rumbling groan emanates from his throat, and my skin erupts into goose bumps.
His mouth is right at the nape of my neck, every breath of his making me whimper.
“Don’t. Move.”
His voice is low and commanding, and I dare not disobey.