Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 113464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
All I can do is shrink back against the dresser between the windows, cowering in the face of his rage.
I think I signed my death warrant.
Because he looks like he’d love nothing more than to kill me.
CALLUM
When I think I understand this girl, she leaves me wondering what the hell I was thinking, getting involved with her. The back and forth, up and down—it’s enough to make me want to throw her out on her ass and forget I ever set eyes on her.
“Please, don’t hurt me,” she whispers, cowering like a trapped fox when the hounds have closed in.
How dare she? She thinks I’ll let this go? Pretend this was only a misunderstanding? I’ve killed men for insulting me less than she has. Practically spitting in my fucking face after everything I’ve been willing to sacrifice.
How does she repay me? Running from me in my own home. Forcing me to chase her down.
And after all that, she thought a locked door would stop me from getting to her? Have we met? Does she not know me? As if I would let her get away. As if I wouldn’t stop at anything to make sure I have her forever.
“You can’t run from me.” I’m panting, grinding my teeth, hungry for the sound of her apologies. To make her hurt.
At the same time, I can’t help but stare in fascination. She’s never been more beautiful than she is now, fearing for her life in the face of my rage. Her red-rimmed eyes sparkling with unshed tears, and her fair skin paler than moonlight. She clutches the tote bag in front of her like a shield, like that would do anything to protect her. A locked door couldn’t do it.
“Don’t hurt me, Callum. Please.” She shakes her head, her eyes glued to me, and her body tense like she’s ready to run if I give her so much as an inch of space. “I know you don’t want to hurt me.”
That’s what does it. What breaks through the haze of rage.
She lets out a yelp when I cross the room and take her by the arm. “Hurt you? You’re the one who’s been wounded? When you run away and force me to chase you through my own home? What kind of game do you think this is?” I bellow in her face while she flinches, weeping.
“You can’t do this to me,” she chokes out while her body trembles. “How can you say you care about me when—”
“When all I care about is your safety? I want you to be protected and cared for, and I’m supposed to apologize for that? It will never happen.”
“I don’t want to live that way!” If she doesn’t stop trying to yank her arm free, she’ll end up dislocating her shoulder. Not that I’m going to ease my grip. “Don’t you see? Aren’t you listening?”
“You are not leaving me,” I grit out. “Never. So get the idea out of that pretty little head right now.”
“You’re hurting me,” she whimpers, all traces of strength and defiance stripped from her voice.
“You’ll have to remember that the next time you take it into your head to run away.” Pulling her close, I release her arm in favor of taking her face between my hands. This beautiful, tear-streaked face, so soft and fragile. “I hate having to do this, but you leave me no choice.”
Her troubled gaze bounces over my face, brows drawing together. She’s confused and full of dread. What a shame she didn’t think before forcing my hand. “What are you going to do?”
“What a bad girl deserves.”
It isn’t until I drag her to the bed and take a seat on the edge that she thrashes around, fighting to be free. “No! You can’t be serious!”
She’s wrong again. I’ve never been more serious than I am now, pulling her to me and throwing her over my lap. She lands with a soft grunt and instantly starts pounding her fists against my leg and kicking her feet pointlessly into the air.
“You did it to yourself.” She may as well be pounding the air with those tiny fists of hers. I barely feel the blows she lands. I’m too focused on her ripe ass, bared to me once I pull her modest little work dress up to her waist. A thin strip of pink cotton is wedged between those luscious cheeks, leaving her smooth globes for me to stroke and squeeze.
“Stop! Callum, this is ridiculous!” She wriggles and kicks and twists her neck to look up at me. The shock on her flushed face almost makes all of this worth it.
But it’s the fighting and squirming and rubbing against my crotch that’s becoming a problem. Nothing I can’t handle, but if she doesn’t let up, I won’t be able to get through this without being distracted by other needs.