Rule’s Obsession Read Online Lynda Chance (House of Rule #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, New Adult Tags Authors: Series: The House of Rule Series by Lynda Chance
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Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 52277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
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"Do?" Uh-uh. No way. She wasn't going there. "I have no clue. You can probably just follow his lead, you know?" Angie replied, desperately ready to get off the phone.

"Okay, yes. That's what I thought. And after tonight, I'll hide a condom in my purse just in case."

"Right. Just in case," Angie agreed.

"Now darling, where do I buy really pretty underwear? I mean the really nice stuff, matching sets. Lace. You know what I mean."

Angie imagined Damian finding out she'd told his mother where to buy lingerie with a man in mind and she reached up and began rubbing her temples where a stress headache was beginning to form. Yeah, there wasn't a chance in hell that she'd be telling him about this phone conversation. Luckily, his mother spoke again before she had to. "There's a store at the mall called Victoria's Secret. I've never been inside but do you think that's the place to go?"

Angie breathed a sigh of relief, knowing she was about to get off the phone and put this uncomfortable conversation behind her. "Sure, definitely try Victoria's Secret first."

****

They'd been so busy at work that day that the black dye was still in Angie's hair when she walked inside her apartment that evening with a pharmacy sack in her hands. She tossed it on the small dinette table and went to take a quick shower.

She was feeling particularly edgy tonight, still upset at Damian's callousness from the night before. She didn't want to be here if and when he showed up. And she knew he would. Well, she didn't know for sure, but she figured. With that thought in mind, after she dried off and threw on jeans and a t-shirt, she picked up her phone and sent him a text. I won't be home tonight. Catch you later. That was easy enough, right?

Wrong. His text came back three seconds later. Where will you be?

Angie didn't stop to think, she just began to key in her response. Out.

Where?

She stiffened her spine as she focused on that one word demand and began keying again. There's nothing casual about you asking me where I'll be.

His response came back instantaneously. Fuck casual.

She sucked in a breath. To say she was floored was an understatement. And on top of that, she had no idea how to respond. Suddenly more antsy than she'd been five seconds ago, she slid on a pair of flip-flops and grabbed her bag and her keys, preparing to leave the apartment that very second.

She opened the front door and immediate trepidation slid down her spine. Damian stood in the threshold, over six feet of pure testosterone, leaning into hands that were propped on either side of her door frame, effectually imprisoning her inside the apartment.

She had a wild idea of darting under one of his arms, and before she could think better of it, she made a hasty dash for freedom.

He swooped down and caught her around her midriff and lifted her off her feet. Holding her in midair with one arm, his strength was indisputable as he walked inside her apartment and kicked the door shut behind him.

Chapter Seven

Angie's body tensed up, and when Damian sat her on her feet, she immediately began backing away from him.

It was an amateur mistake. After sleeping with him for so long, she should have known what his reaction to that move would have been. But she wasn't thinking. She was on auto-response, her limbic brain doing the thinking for her, her reflexes taking charge when her fight or flight response had gone into action.

She should have stood her ground and not been leery of having a verbal confrontation with him. That would have given him pause and she might have had a chance to win this battle that suddenly waged between them. But instead, she'd screwed up and he was already tracking her across the room.

She fucked-up even more by continuing to scoot backwards, until her spine was flush against the wall. He stopped six inches away and placed a single hand on the sheetrock above her head and leaned in as he stared her down.

"Where were you headed?" The question was asked softly, in a voice like silk but with an underlying edge of steel he couldn't hide.

She shook her head, refusing to give him an answer.

His burning scrutiny held her in place. "Where were you headed?" he asked again, his cool tone dropping by a tension-filled degree.

She licked her too-dry lips. "Out."

His eyes dropped to her lips before ensnaring her gaze again. "'Out' isn't an answer."

"It's the only one you're going to get."

Her voice wasn't belligerent, it was softly spoken, but it was obvious that he took the content of her words as a challenge. His muscles tensed and he gave her a dark, layered look of hostility. "Since you won't give me an answer, I guess that means that instead of leaving, you'd rather stay here and fight with me." His hands reached for her upper arms and held her in a punishing grip. "That means I'm more important than whatever you had planned, if in fact, you had anything planned at all."


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