Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
After a few minutes, hands landed on my hips, a hard body moving against mine with the music. When I glanced over my shoulder, I half expected to find Gio, but of course, my fiancé was busy.
My dance partner looked like a college jock, all messy hair, easy smile, and youthful features. I debated pushing him away, but then my gaze drifted up to that office, the mirrored exterior reflecting the flashing lights and writhing bodies. Did he have her bent over his desk? Was he telling her what a good girl she was?
I shuttered those thoughts and danced with the stranger, letting him put his hands on my body. Our hips moved to the beat, the hard press of him grinding against my ass, but I didn’t care. It felt good to be wanted in such a basic way, not because of my name. Not because I was a challenge or a possession. This guy didn’t want anything from me except a dance, probably a fuck.
I laughed as I realized how ass-backward my life was. While other girls were looking for commitment and avoiding casual one-night stands, the idea appealed to me. He swept the hair from my neck, and warm lips brushed my throat. I stiffened, a knot forming in my gut that felt an awful lot like guilt. And that was ridiculous considering where Gio was right now.
I closed my eyes, trying to push away the image of him and Laylah together. When I opened them, it was like watching the Red Sea part before me. Dancers shifted away from the lone figure cutting through the crowd. Whether they feared Gio or his presence was simply so commanding that people instinctively shifted away from him, I wasn’t sure.
He prowled across the dance floor like a tiger on the hunt, his gaze fixed wholly on me. His rage was a visceral thing, stroking over my skin, driving my pulse into a frenzy. A sick part of me liked it, wanted it. I craved his jealousy, his anger, for him to see someone else touch what I would never give him.
The guy behind me seemed totally oblivious to the fact that I’d gone still. His lips brushed my neck again, and I held Gio’s gaze as I tilted my head to the side. His jaw clenched right along with my heart, adrenaline thrumming through my veins like a freight train. My skin heated, moisture pooling between my thighs that had nothing to do with the hands on my hips or the lips at my neck.
Gio came to a stop, towering over me, his body almost vibrating with violence. Oh shit, he was really mad. I realized that I may actually be about to witness a murder.
He physically removed the hand on my hip, and a scream sounded in my ear. I was yanked out of the way as Gio bent the man’s hand behind his back at an angle that suggested broken bones. My stomach rolled and guilt stabbed at me.
The guy was silently crying, the sound drowned by the throbbing music. His face morphed from agony to fear when Gio whispered something into his ear.
Everyone around us stopped to stare at the man being assaulted in the middle of the nightclub. A moment later, Jackson was there, pushing Gio away before helping the sobbing man. He glanced at me with a raised brow that screamed, “I told you so,” before dragging the jock away.
And then it was me and Gio and his rage. Despite the sea of people around us, fear spiked through my bloodstream hard and fast.
Like prey caught in the sight of a predator, I felt the overwhelming urge to run. I turned and cut through the crowd, adrenaline driving each panicked step. I made it to the edge of the dance floor before a hand clamped around the back of my neck in a vice grip. A wall of muscle met my back, the scent of pine and mint cutting through the smell of sweat and perfume that tainted the air.
“Three,” he growled in my ear.
I turned my head to the side, my lips brushing the stubble of his jaw as my pulse hammered out a frantic beat. “I don’t recall one and two.”
“One was when you let someone else put their hands on you.” His fingers flinched into my hip. “Two, three, and four were when you let him put his lips on your fucking skin.” He bit my throat, right over my pulse and hard enough to bruise. “So, running, in fact, brings you to five. At least.” He fisted my hair and turned me to face him, something feral flickering through those blue irises.
A trickle of panic blended with indignation at the fact that he was chastising me for dancing while he’d been fucking someone else. I lashed out, fighting his hold. My nails raked his face before he restrained both my wrists in one hand. Three pink lines marred his cheek, and the wicked smile that twisted his lips had me attempting to take a step back.