Series: The Rossi Crime Family Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
I down the rest of the alcohol and make my way to my bedroom. The hallway is completely dark except a faint light escaping from beneath the guest bedroom door. I almost walk past it, but some invisible force makes me stop.
My mind starts to wander…
What’s she doing right now? Is she sleeping? Is she naked? My cock hardens inside my pants. I lick my lips, thinking of all the different things I want to do to her.
Uh…fuck yes. She is probably naked in the bed.
Maybe I can sneak in and take a peek.
I know what I’m doing is wrong. I know it, but I don’t give a fuck. I never said I was a gentleman...or a good man, for that matter.
It isn’t until the doorknob turns in my hand and the door opens that I remember I told her to lock it.
I clench my jaw in anger.
Does this girl listen to a word I say?
I push the door open all the way and find her sitting on the bed, fully dressed.
Bummer.
I avert my eyes, refusing to look at her. She’s beautiful, too beautiful, and I don’t want to see her terrified gaze.
“You know, for someone who acts so fucking scared all the time, you really should improve your listening skills. You might make it out of this situation alive if you listen to me.”
I walk up to the bed, and she scoots back to sit at the headboard, her legs drawn up to her chest making her appear even smaller than she is. The only thing she’s taken off so far are her shoes. And like the sick bastard I am, I wonder what I’d have to do to make her lose some of her clothes. My dick grows harder thinking about the creamy bare skin hiding under all that fabric. I’d bet money she is soft all over…really fucking soft.
“You’re going to do something for me, and you’re going to do it because I told you.”
Her eyes flash with fear. “And what is that?”
“Suck my cock.”
Hugging her legs tighter, she whispers, “No.”
I take a surprised step back. “No? You think I’m going to let you stay here…at my house…keep you protected…for free? It don’t work that way, baby.”
“I-I can leave.” Her voice is soft and fragile—like everything else about her. I want to grab her by the shoulders, shake her, and yell. I want to tell her to swallow her fears and stop being so fucking weak.
“No, you can’t, and you won’t. The person who is after you, he’s a real fucking prick. If he gets his hands on you, he is not going to be as nice as I have been.” I keep my voice even and continue. “He is going to shove his dick down your throat and choke you with it before he beats the ever-loving fuck out of you. He won’t offer you a place to live, or protection, and he definitely won’t let you say no to him—not that it would matter if you said no. A hole is a hole.”
I pause briefly, gauging Kiera’s heart-shaped face. She looks worried, her tiny little body trembling against the headboard, leaving me with the visual of a million and one other ways I could make her tremble.
“So, if you want my protection, if you want me to shield you from him, you’re going to get your sweet little ass over here and suck me off. After that, you’re going to be a good little girl and listen to me, because I am so very fucking close to losing my patience with you.”
I say the words, but I’m not sure I mean them. I can’t force her to do anything she doesn’t want to do. I can scare her. I can trick her, but there is no way in hell I’m taking something from Keira she doesn’t want to offer.
Chapter 5
Keira
Damon is stands in front of the bed, swaying on his feet. He unbuckles his pants, and all I can think of is the woman's words from earlier today. “Damon won’t force you into something you don’t want.”
Either she has no idea who she is working for, or I haven't made myself clear. Gathering up every ounce of courage I can, I lift my chin and repeat the word a little firmer this time. “No.”
Damon’s eyes darken, going real wide, and from the way he is looking at me, I know he wants to say something. There’s a response on the tip of his tongue, and I’m not sure I want to know what it is. Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything, and lets his hands fall to his sides.
“Suit yourself,” he slurs before turning on his heels, storming out the room full of fury. He slams the door shut so hard, the lampshade on the bedside table shakes.