Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 149137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
“I was strangling her. I had my hands around her throat.” And he’d been squeezing. He hadn’t seen her at all. He’d seen…he could have killed her. He could have snapped her neck, and then where would they be? She would be dead and he would get a one-way ticket to jail because going to jail would be far better than explaining why he’d attacked the woman he’d recently had sex with.
He pushed off the dresser and made his way into the bathroom, realizing that he would have gone to jail rather than pursuing his other option.
Anything was better than telling someone what had happened to him.
“She was three seconds from shoving your balls through your body and out your damn mouth,” Dec explained, his voice flat. “You see her and you see something sweet and soft, and don’t get me wrong, there’s a lot about Kay that’s soft and sweet. Her heart, for example. She gives too much of a shit if you ask me. That’s probably why she hesitated in the first place. But there’s nothing soft about her physically. You’re feeling guilty, but she can handle you.”
He turned on the hot water in the sink, washing his hands and running it over his face to calm down. “I’m bigger than she is. I know she’s more trained, but she froze. She was shocked.”
“I explained that. She’s a softie at heart. Or she was worried that you would fire her if she was the reason you could no longer reproduce.” Dec glanced down at his phone, easily maneuvering it with the hand not holding the massive gun. “Shane’s got the guy and the cops are here. He says it’s a new crazy. He’s going to take a picture, see if you recognize him.”
“I’ll go out and see if I can ID him.” He wasn’t afraid of some asshole who’d tried to throw a rock through his windows. He also wasn’t stupid. Those windows were hurricane proof, even though they didn’t get storms like that on the West Coast. They were bulletproof. A rock was only going to cause the alarm to go off. Nothing more.
“Absolutely not.” Kayla strode in, looking nothing like the sweet submissive she’d been fifteen minutes before. She’d changed into slacks, a light sweater, and a scarf that would be perfect for a relatively breezy night on the beach. Of course, he knew why she’d added the scarf and it wasn’t about the slight chill. “You are not going out there.”
He wanted to be back in the playroom, locked in and cozy.
She’d been fucking gorgeous, naked and waiting for his attention. She’d taken the spanking like a champ, like she’d needed it, and the connection that flowed between them had sparked something inside him. He’d wanted her like nothing he’d wanted in a long time, which was precisely why he’d forced her to her knees and made her take him from behind where he could control the encounter.
Where he didn’t have to look into her eyes and truly feel her. The connection had been too much, overwhelming.
“I think I’ll make the decision about whether or not I leave the house, Kayla.” He was well aware his voice had gone positively arctic.
He wanted to walk over and drag her back into his arms and apologize. He wanted to make sure she was all right. He could call in a doctor to take a look at her throat.
Did she even want him to touch her now? Or had he ruined the nice place they’d found?
It was the very fear of the answer to those questions that sent his voice dark and cold.
If it bothered her, she didn’t show it. She merely glanced his way over the glow of her telephone. “Not when there’s a man out there who wants to hurt you. That’s when I get to step in as the voice of common sense. I know. Boring part to play, and yet you pay me to play it. Have you ever seen this man before?”
She turned her screen toward him as the front bell chimed.
“I’ll go let the cops in.” Dec nodded his way before disappearing down the hallway.
“I don’t like being told what to do.” Josh stared at her instead of the picture.
“You also don’t like being put on your belly,” she replied, her tone completely bland. “Do you react the same way on your back?”
He took the phone and stared at the screen, unwilling to go any further down that road with her. He’d revealed enough of himself for one night. There was a man on the ground, his face up toward the camera, but it was obvious the impromptu photo session hadn’t been his idea. Brown hair, glasses, thin lips. There was nothing at all remarkable about the guy, but something stuck in his memory. “He looks vaguely familiar. I might have seen him on a set.” The memory hit him squarely. “Shit. That’s a screenwriter. I don’t remember his name. Allen something. He sent me his script, but I don’t read things that my agent doesn’t send directly.”