Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 167204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 557(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 557(@300wpm)
I go to the second-floor bathroom because it’s farther away from the other girls, and it’s the one I’m used to. Tears blur my vision as I yank open the door and stumble inside, gripping the edge of the sink so I don’t fall.
“Stupid fucking shoes,” I say, glaring down at them, but it’s not the shoes I’m angry at.
It’s Killian.
Goddamn Killian.
It’s myself for ever liking that asshole.
I knew it was bound to happen, but to rub it in my face like this. To ruin Double Ryan night even more than Sloane already did by showing up.
“He’s such an asshole.”
The door opens behind me, and I turn, startled.
“You know, I’ve heard that about him, too. Stupid fucker.”
My eyes widen as Killian comes in, closing the bathroom door behind him.
“What the hell are you doing in here?”
He smirks, his blue eyes twinkling, his appreciative gaze moving over my body in this tight pink dress. “What in God’s name are you wearing?”
“Don’t worry about what I’m wearing,” I say, crossing my arms in a useless attempt to cover up.
“I like it. I didn’t say I didn’t like it. Just doesn’t seem like you.”
“All my clothes are at your apartment,” I say, my voice cracking under the weight of emotion overload.
“That’s okay,” he murmurs, coming closer. “I like you better naked anyway.”
“Killian,” I say warily, backing up.
“Songbird,” he says, grabbing my hips and backing me up against the counter.
“Don’t call me that anymore. And get your hands off me.”
He doesn’t. “You know,” he says, letting go of my hips, but only so he can slide his hands around and grab my ass, pulling me tightly against him. “I’m getting a little fucking tired of being told what to do.”
I catch a whiff of an unfamiliar scent on his breath. “Have you been drinking?”
“Mm-hmm. Drinking and thinking of you.” He nuzzles his face into my neck, and my heart nearly gives out. “Do you know how fucking much I’ve wanted to touch you, Brynn? It isn’t right to go this long without touching you. It’s unnecessary cruelty.”
Despite my ire and desire to be let go, I can feel his sincerity, so my tone isn’t as mean as I want it to be when I say, “No, it’s a pretty normal part of being engaged to someone else. Now, please take your hands off me before one of Sloane’s little spies follows me in here—”
“Fuck Sloane’s little spies.” He yanks my dress up and I gasp.
“Stop it,” I say, bringing my hands up to push at his chest, but it’s like pushing against a wall.
With my satin dress bunched up, he slides his hands down the back of my panties to grab my ass, squeezing my flesh possessively like I’m still his to touch.
Fuck, I hate that my body responds to it.
“Get away from me,” I say, heat rushing to my face.
“I’d rather die,” he states.
My eyes widen and shoot to his, and then he’s grabbing me, hoisting me up on the counter. “Killian,” I say uneasily. “What are you doing?”
“Taking what’s mine.”
“I am not yours.” I try to shove at him, but he plants himself between my thighs. “I’m serious, Killian. They’re right upstairs.” I’m afraid of what happens if I let him trap me here, so I try to slide off the counter.
But I just slide into his hard body, and I’m stuck here, my legs straddling him, my pelvis pressed right against him.
“That’s more like it,” he murmurs, sliding his hand under my thigh.
My cheeks flush. “I’m trying to get down.”
“You want down?” he asks. “I’ll let you down.”
I don’t think he means it, but to my surprise, he grips my ass and lifts me, then takes a step back. He carries me away from the counter, probably realizing I can’t land easily in these heels. He holds me up, making me straddle him for a hot moment, then he eases me down.
I lick my lips when my feet touch the floor, my body flushed and responding to the friction of sliding down his body.
But I told him I was off the table if he was going to marry Sloane, and goddammit, I meant it.
It didn’t mean I wanted to be, but if he’s going to marry her…
Reality is like a splash of ice water to the face. I swallow, taking a slow step back, but before I can, Killian reaches out and grabs a fistful of my hair. I gasp in surprise, my gaze shooting to him, and then he meets my gaze and says, “Get on your knees.”
Heart racing, I shake my head no.
“No?” He raises his eyebrows. “All right.”
Then, like that day on the balcony in Paris, he forces me down.
I don’t want to be there this time, but it’s hard to get up in these stupid heels, and his firm grip on my hair makes it hard, too.