Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 119092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
He smiled at me with the eyes of a predator.
“I don’t care if it’s healthy,” he whispered. “Whole damned world’s unhealthy. You think all those people living in giant houses on the lake have happy, pretty, perfect lives? You think those bitches aren’t backstabbing each other while their husbands fuck interns on their lunch breaks?”
I shook my head.
“My friend Kimber’s not like that. Her life’s nice and normal and not crazy at all.”
“Then she’s one in a thousand,” he replied. “Because I swear to you, sometimes the nastiest shit happens behind the prettiest doors, while everyone laughs and smiles and pretends everything’s okay. Here’s the thing about my world. We’re fucked up. We own it. We take care of business and move on. In twenty years those ‘healthy’ people you’re so jealous of will still be backstabbing each other, and their kids will, too.”
“I’ll take my chances,” I said.
Ruger scowled and pushed himself up abruptly. Then he grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder like a sack of wheat. I squawked as he carried me out of the room and up the stairs to his loft, kicking and punching him the entire time. Didn’t do a bit of good. I don’t know what I expected—maybe that he’d throw me down on the bed and ravish me, like a movie or something. He didn’t. Instead he carried me into his big bathroom, dumped me in the shower and turned on the faucet.
“What the hell are you doing!” I shrieked as cold water hit me, still fully clothed. Ruger grabbed the shower hose and started spraying me down with it.
“I’m showin’ you respect,” he yelled back at me. “So sorry I got you all messy earlier. Just doing my best to make this relationship healthy and clean, because that’s so fuckin’ important to you. Aren’t I a fuckin’ prince?”
“I hate you!” I screamed, lunging for the hose. He laughed and sprayed my face. I lashed out and slipped. In a flash, Ruger caught me, then pulled me tight into his body. I found myself looking up at him, my wet clothes soaking both of us, one of his arms wrapped around my waist and his other hand tight in my hair.
We glared at each other.
“Jesus, you fuck with my head,” he said roughly. “My cock gets hard just thinkin’ about you. You’re in my dreams every night. I wake up in the morning and all I think about is you in my house, you and Noah finally mine. My family. It’s even better than ridin’ my bike. I’m crazy for you, Soph.”
I shook my head, stunned. I didn’t believe him. I couldn’t afford to.
“You’re just saying that to control me,” I whispered, not sure whether I was talking to myself or him.
“Fuck me, you just don’t get it, do you?”
He took my mouth in a fast, hard kiss and I fought him for about two seconds. Then I gave in, because my body recognized him, needed him. Suddenly there were too many clothes between us. Our hands scrambled and I discovered that water-logged jeans—even cutoff ones—must be the least convenient thing on earth to wear when you need quick access.
Still, I managed to get them down and kicked away just as he grabbed my waist, spun me around and leaned me against the counter. I looked up to see him in the mirror, face flushed red with need, eyes capturing mine as he slammed his cock deep inside. It filled me fast and hard, stretching me until it bordered on pain. I gasped, the sound a mix of pleasure and pain.
I’ve never felt anything better in my life.
“Fuckin’ crazy for you,” he muttered, fingers digging into my skin. “Always have been.”
“Ruger …”
Then he took me, forcing me to brace myself with both hands as he pounded me from behind. One hand steadied my hips while the other reached around to my clit. That piercing of his slid along my G-spot, the hard little knobs of metal on the top and bottom of his cock head carrying me to a whole new level of sensation. My orgasm hit with agonizing speed and I screamed, pulsing around him.
Ruger thrust three more times and then he came, too, hot seed spurting.
Shit. We’d forgotten the condom again.
He pulled out of me slowly and we looked at each other in the mirror, our chests heaving. He was fully clothed and I still wore my T-shirt. My hair was sopping wet and scraggly, and eye makeup ran down my face.
I was a hot mess without the “hot” part.
“Do you have any diseases?” I asked, my brain valiantly fighting for control. He shook his head, still watching me in the mirror.
“I always use a condom,” he said. “Never fuck a girl without one, actually.”
“Fucked me without one twice,” I said, my voice dry. “Wanna rethink your answer?”