Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 95676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
"Never was before you," I mumble around her breast. "Never wanted anyone like I want you, kitten. You've already got me addicted to you."
"M-me too," she whispers.
"Um, you passed my car," Ivy says early the next morning as I drive past the parking lot on campus where her car is parked, still safe and sound.
"We have to do something before we get your car," I tell her.
"Okay…"
I don't take her hint and tell her where we're going. She isn't going to like it. Instead, I drive slowly through campus, making my way toward the dorms on the hill. Ivy mutters beside me but doesn't ask where we're going or what we're doing. She's learning. Like I told her last night, she's been on her own since she was seventeen. She's already proven to the world that she can take care of herself. But she doesn't have to do it all alone anymore.
I want her to learn that she can trust me with anything. I will always put her and her needs first. I will protect her above all things, love her above all things. She's safe with me, no matter what. She's carried far too much responsibility for far too long. I don't want her worrying every minute of the day anymore. I want her to learn to let me carry that for her. She isn't submissive because she likes to be told what to do. She's submissive because she craves the freedom that comes with ceding control.
I pull into a small lot near the Residential Life Office on the Hill and whip into a parking spot.
"What are we doing here?" Ivy asks, her gaze shifting between me and the students meandering away from their dorms toward early morning classes. Most are bleary-eyed, plodding along with their heads down. They don't pay us any attention whatsoever. That doesn't keep her from flinching.
I pull a key out of my pocket and hold it out in the palm of my hand. "This is the key to Clark's dorm. I picked it up yesterday before I hunted you down."
"Oh."
"I need you to come in with me," I say quietly, trying to soften the blow. "You know the people in your life better than anyone. If there's anything in there to help identify who is behind this, you may notice it when I wouldn't think anything about it."
She pales slightly but doesn't immediately tell me no. Instead, she thinks it over for a long silent moment. I send up a small prayer that she isn't thinking about the ramifications for me here. If she is, getting her inside is going to take a miracle. But LAPD has already combed through his room and taken everything of use. She may see something they missed, something to point us in the right direction.
"Okay," she agrees, taking a deep breath.
I flash a proud smile at her. Fuck, she's a brave little thing when she wants to be.
Her eyes heat and darken, and my dick throbs. I can't fucking wait to get her back to my room and our bed. Last night was, hands down, the best night of my life. Making love to her, holding her, sleeping beside her…every moment of the night was perfection.
We both climb from the SUV and head toward the dormitories.
"Which dorm was he in?" Ivy asks.
"Sproul Hall." I glance around, trying to locate the building in question. With thousands of students opting to live on campus every year, housing units are scattered all over the Hill in a sprawling community of multi-storied units complete with courtyards, walkways, and a maze of roadways in between. Out of necessity, the units are all co-ed, allowing the university to house as many students as possible.
"That's Sproul." Ivy points toward the massive building.
I examine the complex for a moment before cutting my eyes at her. "Where did you stay when you were here?"
"I was in Canyon West for two years, and then in Rieber Vista and Courtside my final two years." She points out the buildings in question. "Where did you go to college?"
"San Fran State."
"What did you study?"
"Criminal Justice." I pause to let a group of students go around us. "I minored in Psychology."
"Really?"
I nod
"No wonder you're so good at your job," she tells me, a soft smile on her face.
"I am good at my job," I agree quietly. I'm not being cocky or arrogant, but honest. I'm good at my job because I fought to be the best at what I do. I don't give up and I don't fail, not when there's so much at stake. When I put someone in cuffs for murder, I want to know it's the right guy.
"I know," she agrees when I hold open the door to Sproul Hall for her. She slips inside and then pauses with her head down as a group of students pour out of the elevator, headed our way. No one pays any attention to us as they stumble past, murmuring their thanks to me for holding the door, but Ivy still doesn't take a breath until the last kid steps outside.