Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 217988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1090(@200wpm)___ 872(@250wpm)___ 727(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 217988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1090(@200wpm)___ 872(@250wpm)___ 727(@300wpm)
What the heck did she say to that?
“They don’t really deserve to die just because they’re jerkfaces.”
“You’ve got such a soft heart, Bunny.”
She breathed out a sigh.
“It’s a bit of a flaw. I should try to fix it. But strangely, I rather like it. It makes you very different from me. I shall try to guard your soft heart and ridiculous feelings of guilt about people who deserve to die.”
Okay. Right.
There was a lot to unpack in that statement. But since she’d won the argument over him killing anyone who upset her, she thought she’d stay quiet.
“Did you tell your boyfriend you were coming here today?”
“He’s off-limits,” she said fiercely. What would he do if Brody hurt her feelings? She couldn’t ever let him know.
“Who? Your friend? Don’t worry. I have no intention of harming him. As long as he makes you happy. I’m not impressed that he’d let you come here alone.”
“He doesn’t know,” she said hastily.
“You didn’t tell him? Now, that was very naughty, wasn’t it?”
Holy. Heck.
“If I were him, I’d have to punish you for that.”
Good. Lord.
Why was she so turned on? She had lost her mind.
“You need to behave yourself, or you can expect to have a very red ass.”
“B-Brody wouldn’t spank me.”
“I wasn’t talking about him.”
Being spanked wasn’t something that a good girl should want. Then again, she was starting to think she wasn’t really a good girl. On the surface, she might look like she was.
But inside her was something dark and hungry. And it made her feel alive.
Like when she used to wear brightly-colored mismatched socks under her pants or long skirts when she would have formal dinners with her grandparents.
Small rebellions that helped keep her sane.
“You . . . I . . . we . . .”
“Don’t stress, Bunny. I know you’re not ready yet.”
Ready for what? For him to spank her? Or to be in a relationship with him?
Oh shit. This was a mess.
“What would you say means a lot to Mr. Slimy Suit over there? His car? His business? His reputation?”
“Why are you asking that?” she asked.
“Because you said I couldn’t kill them. You didn’t say I couldn’t make their lives miserable.”
“But you don’t need to do that,” she said hastily. “What they say and do doesn’t matter to me.”
“I’ve already warned you about lying, Bunny.”
She let out a deep breath as his fingers tightened slightly on her throat. “I wish it didn’t matter.”
“They still hurt you, and even though I can’t kill them, they have to pay. And I don’t want you worrying about them, understand me?”
“I’m not worried about them.”
His fingers, which had been caressing her skin, stilled. “You’re worried about me?”
He sounded so incredulous that it made her sad. Had no one ever worried about him before?
“You don’t need to worry about me, Bunny. I can take care of myself. These pigeons don’t have a chance in hell of touching me.”
“Pigeons?” she asked, side-tracked.
“I hate pigeons. Stupid animals that do nothing but poop and make noise all the time.”
She found herself grinning at his disgruntlement.
“Poor pigeons. What did they ever do to you?” she asked.
“Something that we will not talk about, ever,” he said stiffly.
She started giggling. “Did one poop on you?”
“I said, we’re not going to talk about that, brat.”
Tears ran down her face as she laughed.
“Be careful, little girl. Thin ice. Very thin ice.”
Maybe she should have taken heed of the warning. But honestly, all she could think about was a pigeon daring to poop on his head.
“Most people would be pissing themselves in fear of my threats.”
“Sorry. I’ll try to act appropriately frightened.”
“Do that, brat.”
She had to bite back the urge to say, yes, daddy.
Urgh. She was an idiot.
She glanced around, noticing that Brad and Laura had disappeared. Shit. And now she was late for her meeting with Brad. He hated when she was late.
But what did she care? He was the one who’d kept calling her until she’d caved and agreed to meet with him.
How he’d gotten her number, she didn’t know. Probably the same way he’d found out where she lived. Creep.
“Just don’t do anything that might stain your soul,” she whispered.
“Baby, my soul is already pitch black. There’s nothing more that could stain it.”
“Don’t say that. You did a good thing when you . . . you know,” she whispered.
“Are you worried that your car is bugged?”
“I just figure if I never say it out loud, then I won’t slip up. I don’t want you to get into trouble.”
“You don’t need to worry about me or my soul.”
“Just . . . karma will eventually get them, right?” Maybe. She hoped.
“Hmm, so what you’re saying is that I can hang them by their own rope.”
Was that what she was saying? Hell. Maybe.
“I have to go,” she told him.
“I don’t like you going into a meeting alone with him, so I’ll be watching.”