Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
“But I just got here,” I echo back to Rocky, not even trying to hide my sarcasm.
Hoping his stifled smile means he’s found a way to get us both out of here so he can keep showing me a little more of his bedside manner.
Rocky narrows his eyes in mock scorn for a moment and orders the guard to give him his car keys.
“My car?” the guard asks, groaning and flattening the edge of his lips in a frown.
“I have to leave right away, and with you being the only one to know, I should shoot you right here. Guarantee you don’t tell anyone,” Rocky snarls, suddenly reaching into his jacket like he means it.
The guard’s quick to put Rocky at ease, and he gladly hands over his keys.
“A-Anything you say, Mr. Martinelli…I won’t tell a soul, honest,” he gulps.
And just like that, Rocky’s mood lifts, and he smiles, fishing into his jacket pocket, producing his own set of keys.
“I wouldn’t let you walk home,” he reassures the man, and after establishing which car is which, his huge hand is under my elbow as he escorts me through a series of luxurious passageways.
Some of the halls lead to rooms with sounds and smells coming from them that suddenly make me feel like sticking around.
Like once we get to what I can tell is the kitchen, it smells divine and reminds my belly I haven’t even had breakfast yet, let alone lunch or dinner.
All the hired help seems too busy or just plain used to seeing Rocky even to blink as he guides me through a rear exit.
He only hesitates when he gets to two cars parked back to back, both of them the same make and color as the one we’re supposed to use.
A simple push of the remote and the blinking lights signals him our ride.
He doesn’t say a word, not a peep, until we’re in the car and have pulled away from the family estate.
Even the men at the gates only give him a wave as we pass by. His huge hand is still on me, holding my neck down near his lap until we’re clear of the place.
But I could have him hold me like this all day.
He does that special trick with his jeans, making them all big and stiff up front.
Well, it’s happening again, and despite my own nerves, I can’t help but run a hand over him.
Then, both hands until he growls, asking me to stop but not really making any effort to do that himself.
“I mean it, Jasmine,” he says suddenly, catching my attention by using my real name.
I sit up, straightening my hair and giving him a sidelong glance.
But I make sure I don’t stray too far from him.
Being cozied up tight next to him in a car designed for someone half his size is fine by me.
“So you do know I’m not Maria Portello?” I murmur with mock surprise.
“…And I thought you liked it when I did that?” I add, feeling wounded that he’s asked me to stop doing the one thing I know I can do that we’d both enjoy right now.
He keeps his eyes on the road in silence for a while. Shifting them only to make sure we’re not followed.
It goes on like this for almost an hour before I figure he’s really not as interested as I thought, but when he suddenly pulls the car over once we’ve been driving into the countryside for over fifteen minutes, I get a shock.
The best surprise is when he grips me hard, pulls me to him, and plants his mouth hard over mine.
His foot is still on the gas as well as the brake, making the motor rev as fireworks and sparks finally fly between us again. Proving to us both that we’re not imagining them, that these moments of sheer electricity do exist.
Rocky only stops to shut off the car and asks me if I’m alright. He explains himself a little better.
“I couldn’t touch you or kiss you back there,” he rasps, checking the mirrors again by habit.
“Why not?” I ask, sounding innocent but figuring he could really get away with anything in his position as a family member.
Probably even get away with murder.
“I couldn’t because I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop once I started,” he says with a blazing, intense look in his eye.
I feel something coming loose inside me with a look so fierce and passionate.
Something I know only he can help me with from now on.
He grips me, kisses me again, and drives his hand square between my thick thighs, and he moves my hand back to his jeans.
Holy moly, he’s not kidding…he wants to do it right here….
It occurs to me that maybe now’s a good time to explain something to Rocco, that I’m not just a girl who’s having a case of mistaken identity today.