Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 61868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Tears burn my throat, but I won’t shed them. I don’t have the luxury of crying. No one cares if I’m happy or upset. No one will comfort me, so what’s the point?
I try to sleep, but it remains elusive. Too much cortisol in my bloodstream. I don’t want to be on high alert, but I am.
Eventually, I push the cover down and sit up. I pull the shirt closer around me and search the floor for my underwear, slipping from the mattress to retrieve the damp fabric from the floor. More cum leaks from inside me, and I press my legs together, not wanting to make a mess on the floor. I wipe myself clean with my panties as well as I can, then search for the bag that holds the items West purchased for me; it will make a temporary laundry hamper. I can wash them tomorrow by hand if that’s all that’s available. This cabin doesn’t seem to be filled with modern appliances, but maybe I didn’t notice them.
I didn’t take in the room before, but now I find myself perplexed at the vase on the dresser and the soft pillows that decorate the bed. A rug on the hardwood floor runs down one side of the bed as though they were worried my feet would get cold when I woke in the morning. Things feel carefully placed, as though the three brutish lumberjacks wanted to make me feel at home.
It could have been Finn alone. Of all of them, he’s the only one who touched me with any kind of care. I run my hands over the wooden chair in the corner, finding the surface smooth and warm. It’s handmade, of that I’m certain. Beautiful craftsmanship that maybe one of the men here possesses.
The items West bought spread across the dresser, and I look at each one before folding and placing them into the top drawer. Everything looks like it will fit, which stuns me. How did a man with arms big enough to tear trees from the ground and a body like a bear know how to shop for a strange woman? Even the bralettes and panties he chose are the right fit. He bought me feminine hygiene products, even though he must have been embarrassed. The image of him standing in line with them makes me shake my head.
I drift to the closed door, pressing my ear against the smooth wood, straining to hear. The cabin is silent, each of the men having returned to their separate rooms, most probably. I listen and listen for so long that my ear hurts and my neck is strained. When I feel confident the coast is clear, I turn the handle tentatively, bracing myself for any noise that might wake them. It opens smoothly as though it’s been recently oiled. A dim light emanates from the open-plan living area, and I walk slowly forward, searching the shadows, frantically trying to work out if I’m safe.
In the kitchen, I find an overturned glass by the sink and fill it slowly from the faucet, not caring if it’s perfectly cold. I gulp down a full glass and then another, my thirst feeling unquenchable and my stomach completely hollow. The refrigerator stands tall to the right, and I stare at it, debating whether I should search for the food I desperately need. Just a slice of bread or a piece of cheese would get me through until morning. I place my hand on the handle, poised to open, when a low hiss cuts through the silence behind me.
“Looking for something in particular?”
I swivel, finding Jack looming close. He’s wearing loose shorts which hang low on his hips revealing the insanely cut musculature of his chest and abs. His hair, which had been roughly fastened, is long and loose, hanging in waves that should look pretty but can’t when he’s so damned rugged. His lips are a mean line buried in his thick blond beard, and his arms hang at his sides, braced for some unknown fight.
He’d have no trouble tearing an average man limb from limb. I wouldn’t stand a chance if he turned his coiled rage on me.
“I didn’t eat today.”
He breathes out through flared nostrils and strides forward. My flinch is instinct. I’m no stranger to harsh hands and violent words. The way Jack comes to an immediate halt at my reaction gives me pause.
Stepping back, he looks first at the ceiling and then at me. “Fix whatever you want, then get some sleep.”
I watch his retreating form, the swagger of his long-legged gait, the sheer power in every prominent muscle stacked across his wide back. He’s like Thor or an unknown Viking hero, stern and harsh but with incongruous boundaries that he won’t cross. He saw my fear, and it changed him.