Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Everything went black.
Max
I RAN AROUND THE SIDE of building to the area where she’d indicated. Rummaging through the landscaping, I found a ground-level window that looked down into the basement. The weak streetlight made it tough to see detail, but I made out white-blond hair and the barest shadow of her figure on the floor.
Urgency hit me, and I beat on the window while yelling her name. There wasn’t a soul in the parking lot to yell to for help.
I whipped my shirt off, wrapped it around my hand, and slammed it against the glass I got nothing but bruises. I stopped. What if I knocked the glass on her? Bad idea. Shit. I slipped my shirt back on, my brain racing.
The seal on the window was old and faded, a window that had probably been here since the university first opened in 1963. I took out my pocketknife, pried it between the metal sections on the old lock, and tugged until it popped off. Success. I slid the window up and maneuvered myself until I was sitting on the sill. I aimed to miss what appeared to be a cart and jumped to the left. Pain ricocheted up my right leg when I made impact with the floor. Thank God it was carpeted.
A flashlight lay on the ground. I grabbed it and focused on her.
“Max.” Her eyes fluttered open, landing on the window. “Did you hurt yourself?”
I shook my head, my eyes already checking her for bruises. My hands followed, running over her arms and legs. “Don’t worry about me. What happened to you?”
“I fell off the cart trying to get service. My arm hurts—near the elbow.”
Maneuvering her up to sit between my legs and face me, I took her sweater off to get a better look. It had a wide neck and slipped easily over her head, revealing her black lace bra.
Mentally groaning and trying to ignore the swell of her breasts, I used the flashlight to inspect the purple bruise on her arm. “You took a bump, but it’s not broken.” I pushed a strand of hair out of her face. “What else?”
“My head,” she said with a wince. “I hit the edge of the cart on my way down.”
There was a small bump on the right side of her temple, but it didn’t seem too serious. “Let me see your eyes.” Her face turned back toward me, the paleness of her skin striking me deep in the gut. “Your pupils are good. How many fingers do I have up?”
“Two. People always hold up two.”
I gave her a squeeze, relief washing over me at her teasing tone. She was okay. “Good news is I don’t think you have a concussion. Bad news is I completely freaked out when I saw you and didn’t call the campus police.” I’d been reacting on instinct, and my instinct had been yelling, Get to her!
I glanced around the room, my eyes getting used to the darkness, taking in the details. I landed on the metal shelves. “I can get us out of here with those.” I glanced back at her. “Are you in pain anywhere else?”
“Just my leg, but I think it’s okay.”
“Let me look,” I said. “Take your pants off so we don’t miss anything.”
She paused for a moment, then nodded. She slipped her booties off and unbuttoned her jeans. I helped her slide them down her legs, sending up a thank you they weren’t her usual skinny jeans.
A huge bruise, about the size of my hand, was purpling on her outer right thigh.
Even in the obviousness of her injury, my mouth dried at how hard my dick was for her.
Be a freaking gentleman.
Right.
“It looks like your leg took most of the hit. You’re lucky.” I pressed my forehead to hers and kissed her lightly. “You scared the shit out of me.” I caressed her cheek. “How did you end up stuck down here?”
“Someone locked me in. I—I was putting away books, and someone shut the door and wedged a chair under it. I think they ran away, because I saw a shadow in the stairwell.”
I inhaled sharply. “Who?”
“I don’t know . . . but they . . . she . . . laughed at me. I mean, the sound was feminine but I guess I can’t be sure.” Her face paled as she looked back at the door. “They just left me here. I—I hate places I can’t get out of.” Her hands squeezed mine.
Cradling her in my lap, I ran my hand through her hair and palmed her scalp. She leaned tightly into my chest, her nose pressing against me and inhaling my scent. I comforted her, while trying to contain my anger.
Whoever did this—was going to fucking pay.
Sunny
HE’D RESCUED ME. AGAIN.
I’d realized exactly who he was the moment he’d opened that door weeks ago. He was older, his hair was longer and muscles bulkier, but I’d never forget him. The angel with the lush lips, broad shoulders, and perfectly chiseled face; a man brave enough to swim out into a dark lake to save me.