Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 74487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
* * *
“I have to ask you something. It might be hard for you to remember, but the first time Nathan came into the club—”
* * *
“I can’t talk about that, Candy.” His voice drops to a whisper.
* * *
“What?”
* * *
“There’s nothing for me to tell you anyway. I don’t know anything about them—didn’t even know a name until you just said it. I didn’t ask, and they didn’t tell. So I can’t help you.”
* * *
The girl sighs, lifting her wrist and looking pointedly at her watch. I turn away from her, my shoulder digging into the brick wall. “All I want to know is if he asked for me, or if you suggested me. That first visit … when you brought me into VIP.”
* * *
There is a shuffle of static and suddenly Rick’s whisper is loud, as if he is cupping his hand around the receiver. “Candy, they came here for you. They knew everything about you before they even walked in the door.”
* * *
The static ends, and there is a long stretch of silence. In it, I can almost hear my heartbeat.
* * *
“Rick?” I look at the phone, but he has hung up.
* * *
“You done?” The girl steps forward, her hand out, and I pass her the phone.
* * *
“Yeah. Thanks.”
* * *
I’m done, all right. Done with whatever this shit is. I need to figure out an escape.
III
TILL DEATH
“Please. Spank me again.”
CHAPTER 32
The sound of the door wakes me, the slide of glass against rubber disrupting the silence. I open my eyes, the room dim, moonlight filtering through the curtains. Then the door clicks into place, and I stiffen.
* * *
I hear the gentle slap of bare feet, and then the sink of the mattress as a figure moves across it. There is a tug on my blankets, a breeze as the fabric is lifted from my skin. Then, warmth.
* * *
He moves against my back, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me tightly. My body slides easily across the fine sheets, until I am solid against his. His skin is so warm, his body so hard, his arm gripping me tightly, a cocoon of embrace. I feel the scratch of stubble against my neck, and he burrows his face into my hair.
* * *
“I’m sorry.”
* * *
Drew's voice is so thick, so full of emotion, one that holds and protects me. He presses a kiss against the back of my neck before continuing. “I just … I couldn’t go to sleep without touching you.”
* * *
I arch against him, sliding my legs between his, fitting my body even tighter into the curves of his. He reacts, his hands traveling, turning, and gripping me until there is not a single place on our bodies that doesn’t connect. There is nothing for me to say—no words for what is a terrible idea. Words will only ruin this moment. Words mean thought, and I can’t think about what we are doing. I know what I need. I know what I want. And right now, in this one moment, I want to be selfish.
* * *
I roll, his hands sliding and tugging to keep me close. I look into his green eyes, their depths lit with desperation. Then his gaze drops to my mouth, and I yield. He carries such a hunger for me, his desire typically locked behind a stern, rigid exterior. But here, in the privacy of my bedroom, with Nathan’s room a stone’s throw away, he releases it; a storm of want, his passion breathtaking in its simplicity. He follows his line of sight, lowering his mouth to mine, his hands pulling my waist, a strong leg wrapping around me and drawing me close.
* * *
Kissing him is so different than Nathan. Nathan and I have emotional expression in our kisses, our lips able to communicate in ways that we will never verbalize. Drew’s eyes, his touch, his words—they tell me everything I need to know. His kiss is more of a sexual fire, taking this sweet, needy moment and pouring the kerosene of passion onto it. It starts off slow, our movements still drugged with sleep. Soon, it flares, his hands moving quicker, pulling me upright, yanking at the silk of my camisole until it’s over my head and I’m half naked before him. He moves to his knees, our kisses frantic, our hands twisting into each other’s hair, tugging and pulling. Then I am pushed back and I feel the slide of cotton against skin as my boyshorts take the long journey down my legs and off my body.
* * *
He kneels on the bed between my legs, my body naked before him. He pulls up my legs, placing my feet on his bare chest, his hands running softly along my legs, a look of drugged arousal heavy in his eyes. And there before me, lit by the moonlight, I can’t help but compare them.