Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 126564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“Do it,” I bit out. “And leave.”
If Ransom took the bigger bedroom, I was going to strangle him in his sleep.
Reluctantly, Muscle Man followed my directions, bowing his head before slinking back into the open elevator. Running away from the scene.
As the door clicked shut, my skin prickled with awareness.
Danger crawled over me like spider legs.
There were sounds coming from the second bedroom of the suite. Alarming sounds. Like someone was sobbing uncontrollably.
Not again…
I made my way to the open bedroom door, clutching the phone in my fist just in case.
The image in front of me unfolded all at once.
The sight of Ransom fucking a complete stranger against the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the hotel restaurant, sliding in and out of her, his muscled ass cheeks contracting each time he pressed home.
He was fully dressed, his smart pants barely tugged down, not a hair on his head out of place. She was naked as the day she was born, wearing only red-tipped heels, which were wrapped around his waist, her ankles knotted together, pulling him closer. Her hair, shimmering gold, was blown out to perfection. She was the quintessential Texan beauty. Her breasts looked red and raw, like they’d been slapped and tugged painfully.
You didn’t waste any time, did you?
“That’s it. Take it all, and don’t forget—if you ever tell anyone, I’m going to make it very painful for you,” he growled into her face.
I stumbled back, choking on my saliva. An imaginary sword slid through my gut. At first I felt the burn—then the pain.
Deep. Wild. Curling over my throat like talons.
Not because I was disturbed.
But because this time, I wasn’t just turned on. I was jealous.
I didn’t get it. This delicious, breathless ache that spread through me like wildfire. I hated him. He was a disgusting pig. But I couldn’t look away. Couldn’t rip my eyes off the sight of Ransom driving into another woman while she moaned, pretending to protest while her heels urged him for more.
The woman slapped him.
He laughed roughly, pinned her arms above her head against the glass, and thrust harder.
“You’ll never get away with it.” But as she spoke, she met him thrust for thrust.
He pinned her harder, thrusting faster. “You just watch me.”
The woman’s eyes climbed from his face, and she noticed me. “We’ve got company.”
Oh, shit.
“She can watch. That’s all the action this little brat is allowed.”
Burn in hell.
“Unless you’re not into that?” He stopped thrusting, rubbing blood back into her wrists, searching her face now. He was being considerate and nice. Both qualities I didn’t recognize in him.
She shook her head slowly. “I’m having too much fun to stop.”
“Good.” He shoved her hands back above her head and continued thrusting, ignoring me completely, this time not even trying to apologize to me.
I’d been caught. The Peeping Tom in the room. No. Worse. Horny Hallie. Watching shamelessly as my bodyguard got his rocks off with another woman.
“You like to watch me fuck a stranger, don’t you, Brat?” he purred.
His gaze was on me as he drove into her. She spun her head the opposite way, so I couldn’t see her face. She was participating in being his prop! A part of his twisted, elaborate game between two, very unwell people.
“That’s right. See this shit through. Own your kink.”
I was mortified. Mainly because, as he was studying me, I was fixated on the sliver of space between his body and hers. Where I could see his cock through the glistering condom, engorged, thick and dark, draw back then disappear inside of her.
My belly dipped with shame. I felt my pulse thumping between my legs each time he drove into her, my thighs slickening. I wanted to be her. I wanted to be fucked. Disrespectfully. To be used by this heartless man. To be submissive, and docile. To stop fighting. Once.
What was wrong with me?
Everything, I thought. You don’t need a bodyguard; you need a therapist.
But I didn’t believe in therapists anymore. I’d had sixteen of them throughout the years, and not one could fix me.
“Do you like when I do this?” His white teeth twinkled in the dark. He snaked his arm behind the woman, fisting her hair in a death grip, angling her face down to watch how he was fucking her, deeper, more furiously now. Whimpers of happiness escaped her.
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t trust myself right now. Not my words. Not my actions.
“Or maybe you’re into this?” He pulled out of her suddenly, snapped the condom off, and brought her down to her knees, shoving his cock into her mouth. She gasped before taking him in eagerly, sucking and gagging as she wrapped a fist around the base, zero doubt she was as willing a participant in this depravity as I wanted to be.
As that other woman the other night had been. He was sexy and safe and within reach.