Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 155405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 777(@200wpm)___ 622(@250wpm)___ 518(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 777(@200wpm)___ 622(@250wpm)___ 518(@300wpm)
My brain was too foggy from just waking up to think through what I was doing when I came downstairs. I thought about the possibility of him waking up everybody else and getting in trouble, and I acted without further thought.
But I should have given it further thought.
Seeking a distraction, I ask, “Are you hungry? I might make a snack while I’m downstairs.”
“Nope. You better help me to my room. I may not be sober enough to make it all by myself.”
I roll my eyes as he flashes me a puppy dog face that should not work at all, but does shamefully make my stomach sink. “You are not that drunk.”
“You don’t know how drunk I am.”
I’m uneasy as I’m forced to walk up the steps with him or risk falling down them.
When we get to the top, I see him glance up at the security camera on the front door. It would be nice if that reminded him to act right, but it doesn’t. He seems supremely unconcerned as he opens the door and hauls me inside.
“Let go of me,” I say, trying to move away from him once we’re in the foyer.
He keeps me close as he kicks the door shut, then falls back—hauling me with him—to lock the door. “Gotta make sure no one steals you.”
Maybe he is drunk. That doesn’t strike me as something he would say sober, even if he is joking.
He’s obviously stronger than I am, so he controls the path we take. We weave to the right toward the staircase leading upstairs that opens up to just outside the master suite. You can get to my room that way, too, if you go left and keep walking past the empty spare room, but he knows Hannah is in my room.
Just when we get near the stairs, he drags me to the left, away from them. “Nope, can’t go that way, huh?” Leaning in, he whispers conspiratorially, “Might wake up the parents.”
“You should get a bottle of water to take to bed,” I tell him.
“Aw. Are you worried about me?” he mocks.
I roll my eyes, trying to pry his arm off my neck. “Yes, I’m very worried you’re about to lose a limb.”
He chuckles. “I’ve seen you struggle to carry a couple of boxes. I’m not worried about your capacity to wound me.”
“Maybe you should be,” I say primly. “It’s always the ones you least suspect.”
“Yeah?” He lets go of my neck, but before I can feel too victorious, he grabs my hips and walks me back against his dad’s study door.
My heart slams forward in my chest as he cages me in, moving in close.
“Fight me off, then. Let’s see what you got.”
“Landon.” My gaze darts to the nearest staircase. If his dad or my mom heard something and wanted to come downstairs to check, that’s the way they would come. “This is not the time and definitely not the place for this.”
Rather than heed my objections, he slides his hand up underneath my tank top. My heart falters when his fingertips graze my waist. His hand slides higher and a kaleidoscope of butterflies burst free inside my stomach. Then he grips my side to keep me in place while his other hand slides up to grab my bare breast.
Panic scares off all the butterflies. I try to shove his hand away, but he easily locks an arm around my back and pulls me close, flattening me against the front of his hard body while his hand possessively squeezes my breast.
“Landon, stop.”
I feel his hot breath against my neck, the devious way his fingers graze the underside of my bare breast beneath my shirt. The panic makes it hard to think as my blood runs hot and cold through my veins. My mind and body are at war as his lips graze my neck, and combined with him palming my breast the way he is, it triggers a confusing sensation low in my belly.
“Make me.”
I need to get away from him.
I need to get away from him right now.
I shove at his chest, but I may as well be trying to push down a wall. My gaze darts to the staircase. I lick my lips, the desperation to get him to stop tempting me to do whatever I have to do.
I know if I scream, someone will come.
Mom and Hayden are right at the top of those steps.
Hannah is just down the hall from them.
It’s like a bad dream I can’t wake myself up from.
Help is just a cry away, but I can’t seem to open my mouth.
Chapter Eighteen
Parker
Landon’s thumb slides across my beaded nipple, triggering a shock of sensation that rips me from my thoughts about an external savior.
The only person who can get me out of this situation without throwing the entire household into chaos is me, so I try to generate an idea.