Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
The smell of marijuana fills the interior of the club, and I start to feel dizzy, no doubt getting a contact high. There’s a couple card tables set up, men sitting around them as they pass around a tray with white lines on it.
Cocaine.
Each man snorts a line and passes the tray to the next.
God, where am I? What have I gotten myself involved with?
Scantily clad women walk by me, some of them completely naked. A few of them look me up and down, disgust clear on their faces as if they don’t know why I’m here. I don’t know why I am here either.
I feel someone wrap fingers around my wrist and I look down to see Ride’s big hand on me. His touch scorches me right down to the bone, but it’s not unpleasant; in fact, my body heats, and that scares me even more.
“Come on,” he says gruffly, and before I can respond or react, he’s pulling me out of the main room and down a hallway.
There are several doors on either side of us, and I can hear people having sex, the women moaning loudly, headboards banging against the wall, and the men saying crude things. I feel my face heat. I’ve never been around such obscenity. Although I’ve seen some pretty horrid shit in my twenty-one years, especially with Einstein, when it came to experiencing things sexually on a personal level, I have absolutely zero experience.
A virgin.
My heart speeds up at that thought, and I glance at Ride. I have to crane my head back to look at him. His profile is fierce, hard, with his jaw set tight and scruff along his cheeks from the days’ worth of him not being able to shave… because he was chained up in the basement.
I imagine having sex with him. God, I know he won’t be gentle. I know he’ll be raw and hard, brutal even. He looks like a man who takes what he wants and doesn’t give a shit about the repercussions.
To think he’ll be gentle, go easy with me, is a fantasy.
A fantasy?
My mind is hazy, but I realize we are already in a room. His room. I can tell immediately. Everything smells like him, this spicy aroma that instantly has my body heating. I’m embarrassed by how aroused I am. I should only feel fear, maybe even disgust.
“This is your room,” I say matter-of-factly. He doesn’t respond right away, and I glance at him. He’s watching me with this hooded expression that makes me feel extremely bare. I shiver in response.
“Yeah?” He phrases it like a question and takes a step toward me.
On instinct, I take one back.
“And how do you know that?”
I lick my lips and move another step back, retreating although I know there isn’t anywhere for me to escape to. “I’m just guessing,” I lie. Although I don’t know for certain this is his room, in my gut, I know it is. “Why else would you bring me in here if it wasn’t?” I don’t know if I want to hear his answer.
He says nothing for long seconds but walks past me to go to the dresser. I watch as he pulls one of the drawers open and grabs a pair of sweats and a shirt.
“These will be too big on you, but until I can find some decent clothes for you, mine will have to do.” He turns and faces me, and I see the way his jaw has clenched after he said those words. He looks me up and down, and I shiver again. “And the only clothes the girls will have that would fit you are gonna be nothing but scraps of material.” He sounds grumpy, pissed even, as if that thought repulses him.
I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly feeling more vulnerable than I ever have in his presence. Maybe I read him wrong? Maybe he doesn’t want me for sex?
He tosses the clothes on the bed and turns to walk to the door.
“Wait,” I call out before I can stop myself. He turns and looks at me but doesn’t say anything. “W-What am I supposed to do?”
He’s quiet for long seconds. Finally, he exhales roughly and lifts his hand to rub it over the back of his head. “Listen, you have to be hungry, thirsty too.” He looks me up and down again. “You’re too skinny.” He stares in my eyes. “I’m going to get you some grub.”
“And then what?” I ask immediately after he stops talking. He lifts an eyebrow. I can tell by his expression he isn’t used to people questioning him. “Why am I here? What do you plan on doing with me? To me?” I swallow the thick lump that has lodged itself in my throat.
He turns and faces me fully. “I told you what I want.”