Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
The cabin looks like one of those cheesy spots for a man’s man that you’d see in a Hallmark Christmas movie. If I were honest, it is not at all how I’ve pictured Vance’s style. It is a complete log cabin, all wood, bear rugs, and warm colors.
“You were expecting a sterile white room,” Vance jokes once again and cuts through my thoughts.
I whirl around and pin him with my eyes. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Read my thoughts.”
Vance laughs. “I can’t read your thoughts, Little Bird. I can read your sexy body and beautiful face.” Vance walks towards me, gliding his knuckles along my cheek. “Everything you think and feel radiates out of you. In my line of work, being able to read people is the difference between life and death. Let’s just say you should never play poker, sweetheart."
“There’s food set up on the table. Is there anyone else here?”
Vance shakes his head. “No. I have someone who takes care of the place while I'm not here and arranges what I need before I arrive.”
My eyes move back to the spread on the table. Every food someone could think of. Chicken, steak, lobster, potatoes, rice, vegetables.
“That’s a lot of food for two people.”
“Your fridge was empty, and I’m pretty sure peanut butter isn’t your favorite thing to eat.”
I tilt my head. “You were in my apartment?”
Vance doesn’t answer. He rubs the back of his neck, and all I can focus on is the intricate tattoos that cover his forearm and the bland space that is still pink flesh on the inside of his arm. It’s a very odd place to leave without a tattoo, as if he were saving it for something.
“You gonna answer me? You were in my apartment?”
“Yes,” he says, his voice clear and direct. There is no shame or embarrassment, as if breaking into my apartment was almost his right. “Listen, I really need to take a shower. It has been a long week, and now that you’re here and safe, I’m going to shower. I'll be right back.”
“You seem pretty sure that I won’t try to run,” I say, annoyed at how arrogant he is. The man broke into my space, touched my stuff without permission. I wait for the anger to hit me, but all I can concentrate on is the heat from his fingers on my lips and how desperately I crave his touch. “You said you wouldn’t force yourself on me.”
Vance’s eyes betray him. They look sullen before he catches himself, and the same heated dark look returns. He closes the space between us, his body surrounding me like a noose and a blanket combined. The air seems thicker when he is so close to me, so thick I’m not sure if I can breathe. “Little bird, we both know that every single thing I have ever done to you, you have wanted.”
My mind flashes back to that first night, when he had dropped me off, how I stood inside the window fantasizing about what he actually did. My hand instantly touches my lips, and he smiles. I'd figured I’d dreamed of him that night in my loft, but he had been there. I am not sure if I should run out of here screaming or if I should climb him like a monkey. The man pushes all my buttons. Unleashes all my feelings at once, and I am trapped between wanting to fight and submit.
“Little Bird, I have to take a shower,” Vance says, snapping me out of the maze known as my emotions. He traces from my temple to my jaw with his fingertip. “Don’t leave the cabin.”
“Where am I gonna go exactly? It’s not like there is another soul in sight for miles.”
“Go eat,” Vance orders, and I obey as I watch him disappear around the corner.
My mind feels like it’s in a haze. I am in a cabin with a man who has been stalking me, a man who broke into my apartment, invaded my space, my privacy, and now it looks like my freedom.
I hear the shower and run.
Chapter 9
VANCE
Having Clarissa here feels right. I had brought no one to the cabin before. It is a place of refuge, peace. I don’t want anyone here unless they mean something to me. My raven means the world.
I stare in the mirror and then gaze at the white handkerchief now stained crimson from the severed finger inside. I don’t know when this all became my world, when my need for control and power trumped my humanity.
I shake off the self-loathing that I am feeling and get on with it. Walking into the master bedroom, I drop the towel and put on jeans then head to the kitchen, and to my shock, Clarissa is gone.
“Where is she?” I growl at the dogs. They cast their heads down, telling me they fucked up. I glance at the front door, and it’s ajar. “Fuck.”