Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“Wait,” I whisper. She freezes. “Got another one around my waist. Looser. You?”
She sighs a second later. “Yeah. Me, too.”
“It’s alright, we might be able to use that one to our advantage.” I can already see the asshole who came in here wriggling and kicking for his life as I use the rope around our bellies to strangle the life out of him. It would be a much better weapon than the thick rope around our wrists. Suppler, easier to hide.
“Oooh,” she whispers. “It’s coming loose, the one tying us together. I don’t think they did a good job tying them.”
Likely criminals, not Boy Scouts, and tying ropes isn’t in their bag of tricks. Probably thought they’d get Gray and Vivia but didn’t count on taking a two-hundred-fifty-pound guy like me with them.
“Okay, good.”
“The longer length is at your side, can you feel it?”
It takes long minutes, we curse up a blue streak, and when we’re finished, she’s panting and sweat pours down my face in rivulets, but the rope tying us together falls to the floor. We can tell it is the same as they used around our waists, so once that’s gone, all that remains is the tie around our wrists.
“Come here.”
I swivel, still held back a bit by the rope, but not enough that I can’t strain against them to reach her. “Let me get the transponder out.”
“Can you please just take the ropes off my wrists first? I don’t relish the thought of you coming anywhere near my breasts.”
I can’t help myself. I grin in the darkness.
“Afraid I’ll turn you on, baby?”
She curses like a sailor.
“Shh, now. Words like that shouldn’t come out of the mouth of a pretty girl like you.” I shake my head. “Could take a long time to get our wrists unfastened, and we want to send that signal as soon as possible.”
When she doesn’t respond, I hope she sees the logic in this. She wants out of here, too.
“Fine.” She wriggles so that her front is facing my hands. “There. I’m going to lean down so that you can reach for the transponder.”
“Good. Lay down flat so I can reach you.”
“Obviously.”
I grunt at her, but she only falls to her belly and pushes her chest up against my hands. I swipe along her cleavage, feeling for the hard, cold transponder, and keep my touch as chaste as I can. She’s a Montavio sister after all, and it’s a shitty idea to do anything that might piss her brothers off.
Still, I don’t miss the feel of her silky skin against my fingers or the way her breathing hitches when I touch her.
This is a woman unaccustomed to being touched by a man who knows how to.
I wish I didn't know that.
I'm tempted to push, to make this more than just an exploration down her breasts looking for a damn object. So she knows that I’m controlling this, I’m the one in charge.
But just because I have asshole thoughts doesn't mean I have to act on them.
Not all the time anyway.
This woman’s still not only my prisoner but my ward. Our status and roles demand that I protect her at all costs, even if the tables have turned a little bit. For now.
When we escape, however…
Finally, I feel the transponder. I slide it between my thumb and forefinger, and don't waste any time. Orlando said it would be set up so three taps will signal our location, just like our cell phones. It’s a high-tech little number with a thumbprint ID, so not only will they know where we are, they’ll know I was the one to activate the signal. I slide my thumb to unlock it, then quickly hit the button on the side three times. I watch as it silently goes from red to a flash of green, then pull away from her.
Voices are getting louder in the hallway. I don't want them to know yet that we've unfastened our bond. I sit up quickly.
"Sit up. Make sure they can't see the lead of the rope.” She scrambles as fast as she can with her wrists still bound. But she loses her balance and falls, landing hard on her shoulder.
"L," she whispers. I reach for her, and with my hands behind my back, help her sit up clumsily as the doorknob turns. I feel for the rope and tuck it behind myself just in time as the door swings open.
"Food.” Someone marches in with a tray. The smell isn’t all that appetizing, something savory but overly processed, like a warmed-up MRE. Nonna would have a fit. I’m half ashamed my mouth waters, but it’s been hours since I’ve eaten.
“How are we supposed to eat with our wrists bound?” Vivia asks.
The guy only chuckles. “You think I didn’t think of that?” He fists her by the hair, and she stifles a gasp. My body tenses, but I can’t do anything about it right now.