Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
It was comforting, in an unfamiliar way, to hold her like this. It was also exactly what he needed, and he hadn’t even realized it. She had the ability to hurt his heart and put it at ease all at once.
“I’ll bring you more to eat,” he said. “I’m also going to install slide bolts on both of those doors.”
“You don’t need to—”
“I’m sleeping here from now on. Until we leave.”
Her muscles tensed, as if she were bracing to argue. Then she seemed to deflate with her next exhale. “I need to brush my teeth and take a shower.”
He carried her to the sink and prepared her toothbrush. “Did you sleep today?”
“Yeah. How did you know I was at the market?”
“I’m watching you, Lucia. Get used to it.”
She surprised him with a simple nod and turned her attention to the toothbrush.
As she cleaned her teeth, he slid the heels off her feet, removed the gun from her waistband, and grabbed the second Beretta from his. Then he set everything beside her clothes in the corner.
The bugs on her guns were too conspicuous. It was only a matter of time before she or someone else noticed them. They also had a limited battery life and would need to be recharged every few days.
A glance over his shoulder confirmed she was bent at the sink with her back to him. He removed the bugs, pulled a fully charged one from his pocket, and adhered it to the arched underside of her heeled shoe.
The location was less noticeable, and since the audio quality was so good, he could adjust the receiver to tune out the tread of her footfalls.
If he told her about the listening devices, it would add another burden on her shoulders. He didn’t want her walking into Badell’s domain every day worrying about being wired. He also didn’t want her filtering her conversations.
With the new bug on the sole of her shoe, he moved the mattress to butt up against the front door, checked the lock, and set his gun and knife beside the bed where he would sleep.
“The guards never come inside,” she said from the sink. “They don’t even stand near the door.”
After watching the alley from his apartment window, he knew the guards usually hung out down the street. But he wasn’t taking chances. If someone tried to push their way in, the door would bump the mattress and wake him. He would also make sure they kept their voices at a whisper.
Moving to the shower, he turned it on and adjusted the water temperature.
There was no curtain, no privacy whatsoever, but did she need that with him? She’d had her mouth on his cock, his cock in her pussy, his hands and lips all over her body.
“Has the nausea passed?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I’ll help you with the shower.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
Dignity. Despite her frailness, she glowed with it.
“I’m not leaving.” He stared into her honey-brown eyes.
“I know.” She stared right back.
Gripping the hem of her shirt, she pulled it over her head. The bra and jeans went next. Then she hooked her thumbs under the elastic of her black panties, slid them off, and carried them under the spray of the shower.
He meant to turn away and give her space, but he couldn’t unglue his shoes from the floor, couldn’t avert his greedy gaze from her body.
Bones protruded along her ribs and hips, but toned layers of muscles flexed in her arms, abs, and legs as she washed her panties.
She’s washing her underwear in the shower?
“Is that the only pair you own?” He glanced at her skimpy stack of clothes and didn’t see undergarments.
“The other pair ripped, so…” She stared at the worn scrap of satin and shrugged. “This is it.”
“Give them to me.”
When she handed them over, he scrubbed them in the sink, taking care with the delicate, thinning fabric. Then he hung them on the doorknob to dry. “Anything else need washing?”
“Not tonight.” She lathered bubbles through her hair and over her fragile curves, spreading the small dollop of soap impossibly far.
The impoverished way she lived seemed so disturbingly normal to her, but she hadn’t been raised this way. Her parents had been successful citrus farmers and had given her a comfortable upbringing. Until they sold her into slavery.
It infuriated him to think that over the past eleven years, she’d adapted to hardship to the point that it didn’t even faze her.
As she continued her shower, watching him watch her, a fog of complicated questions hung between them. Questions he wasn’t ready to answer.
Did he want to get to know her romantically?
Could he be with her without thinking about her sister?
Would she resent his feelings for Camila?
Was it wrong to want her on such a carnal, animalistic level?
He couldn’t stop thinking about fucking her again. Her gorgeous tits looked so damn appetizing. Round and firm with stiff pink nipples, they were perfect for biting and pinching and bruising.