Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 74315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Miller had her on her belly, the ‘fake’ gun tossed away like it was a rotten piece of meat, and then he cuffed her before standing up and giving her a disgusted look that spoke volumes.
Then he pulled his phone out of his pocket, and called into what I assumed was the police station.
“This is Miller Spurlock. Badge number 544934. I need a blue and white at 300 Moonshine Drive,” he said into his phone. “One suspect in custody.”
“Thanks,” he grunted and hung up.
Then he turned those annoyed baby blues on me with his sexy cleft chin and hard, square jaw.
My God, but the man was sexy. But the thought of ever having sex again turned my blood to ice. Not because it didn’t sound appealing, but because it did sound appealing. With him. Extremely appealing. It sounded like something that I really, really wanted to do.
And that was what made me a slut. I shouldn’t want that. Not with him, and certainly not so soon after I’d just been…taken advantage of. Fuck, but I couldn’t even say the word. What made me think I could be normal with someone like Miller?
I was never even in league with a man like him before, and certainly not now.
I was too plain. I had too many freckles. I was too skinny, and I didn’t have much to work with. Hell, but my dad still called me Scarecrow. I literally had no substance to my body. I was working with boobs the size of most twelve year olds, and feet that were so small they reminded me of elf feet.
I was also introverted and a bookworm; I preferred a good book over a live person any day.
Yeah, I’d been surprised when Mitch had asked me out, and was reluctant to accept.
What I’d originally thought of as a challenge to myself to get out more, had turned into a relationship that I stayed in because I couldn’t figure out a nice way to get out of it.
He’d been my first sexual encounter. My first bad sexual encounter, but an encounter nonetheless.
He was sweet and boring, just like me.
At first it’d been a breath of fresh air to spend time with someone that was so much like myself, but then it got to be really…predictable.
We’d have dinner. Then we’d have missionary sex (if we had sex at all.) Then he’d go home. He’d call me the next day at lunch as a cursory ‘hello’ then he’d ignore me the rest of the day.
He never once, in the year we were together, attempted to stay the night. He’d also never invited me to stay the night at his place, either.
Not that I would’ve accepted since he still lived with his mother…or had when he’d been alive.
All the while, I continued reading my romance novels. The ones where I’d dream of a domineering man who’d give me what I craved.
Not that I’d ever tell him. Or, at least, hadn’t intended to.
That one act of openness from me on the way to church had spawned something dark inside Mitch to let loose.
Never in my dreams would I had believed that he had that in him.
Hell, I’d never known that he even carried a gun, and I’d been with him for a freakin year!
Then for Mitch to rape me, that wasn’t even something I ever contemplated him doing.
There, I said it. Rape. Rape, rape, rape.
God, that was such a simple word, yet I felt my throat seize up the more I repeated the word in my mind.
It was like a hulking, pulsing mass of sickness that sent shivers down my spine the instant I even thought about it.
And the man in front of me. The one who had a body of a God, and a smile that could make even old women melt, had saved me. Had witnessed my most embarrassing act.
Then I laughed sharply. Fuck, but everybody had witnessed that act. Even my own parents.
“Did you say you know her?” He asked, breaking me out of my dark thoughts and pointing at the unconscious Linda.
That’s when the hilariousness of the situation finally took hold.
I pulled my phone out and snapped a picture. “Oh yeah, I fucking know her. This is the slime ball’s mother. You know, the one who you witnessed raping me.”
He ignored how I spat the word rape. Instead, still harping on the fact that she had a water gun pointed in my face.
"I can't believe you just had a gun pointed at your face. I can't fucking believe it," Miller said after a long few moments of staring at me.
I was still busy documenting the sight before me.
If anybody in the world deserved to be sacked like that, it was Linda. She'd been truly horrible to me, and now this.
It wasn't my fault that he'd died. In fact, that'd been his own fault. He'd been the one to fuck up. He'd been the one holding a gun to my head. He'd been the one who beat the hell out of me in fucking church.
Now that I was thinking about it, I didn't find her predicament so funny anymore. And I was fairly sure I was going to puke.
Maybe I was in shock.
That’d explain why I was laughing only moments after having a gun pointed at my face.
"It was a fake gun," I said lamely.
He turned his angry eyes back toward me, spearing me in place.
They really were a beautiful blue.
Dark blue, nearly the color of midnight, but when the sun hit them just right, they looked nearly purple.
"I didn't know it was a fake gun," he snapped. "What I knew was that you had a gun pointed at your face."
I grimaced. "Linda thought her son walked on water. I'm sure she’s just distraught."
The excuse was lame. He and I both knew it. But I really didn't want to have to press charges on her.
Not after her only son had just died, anyway.
He didn't seem to care, though.
No, Miller was still just as pissed now as he had been when he'd arrived. Lucky for Linda, though, that a police car pulled into the driveway in the next moment, saving her from Miller’s wrath.