Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
That is until a hand comes down over mine and I start to scream. But just as I do, a hand clamps over my mouth and I still. There is nowhere to go and he’s all around me. His chest is to my back and he’s caging me in. Just from his hands alone I can tell the man is big, but when his scent hits me as his mouth comes to my ear I know instantly who he is. My fear shouldn’t calm, but for some crazy reason it does and I lean back into him. I gasp behind his hand covering my mouth when I feel every hard inch of him.
“You took something of mine,” he says against my ear, but he doesn’t sound mad about it. Then he kisses me softly in the same place and it’s almost sweet until his mouth moves a little lower. This time he bites me. It’s hard enough that I know it’s going to leave a mark, but instead of crying out I actually moan as my ass pushes back into him all on its own.
My face floods with heat at what I’ve done and he makes a sound like he’s in pain. I feel goosebumps break out along my skin from the noise. What’s happening to me?
“I’m going to take my hand away from your mouth and you’re not going to scream. Are you?” he says.
I’m not sure if I will or not. I debate it for a moment, but then he reminds me why I shouldn’t.
“Wouldn’t want the cops showing up, would you? I might have to tell them what a naughty girl you’ve been tonight. You’ve been taking things that don’t belong to you.”
I shake my head, but I know he didn’t call the cops either. He must want something from me or maybe this is a game the bored billionaire likes to play. What I do know is I don’t want to go to jail, so it looks like I’ll be playing his game.
His hand drops from my mouth as he slowly turns me in his arms. I stare at his chest, unsure if I want to look at his face. As smug as I was about pulling one over on him, I’m still a thief. It always makes me feel shameful. It doesn’t matter if I need the money or not, I’d taken something that wasn’t mine.
“Look at me, little jaguar.”
My eyes drift up to his and when I see his cocky smile, I have the urge to knee him in the balls all over again. Only this time there isn’t anywhere for me to go. He has me caged in and the feeling should terrify me yet somehow I know he’s not going to hurt me. Maybe not physically at least. I know all too well there are other ways to hurt people.
His eyes roam over my face. “Fucking hell,” he mutters as he takes a step back away from me. “Sit.”
He points to my tiny bed, and though I thought this place was small before, now with him filling up every available inch, the place is tiny. I walk over to the bed and drop down and his eyes never leave me as I do. He’s like a predator waiting for me to try and make a run for it, knowing he could easily be on me in this small space. He caught me red handed, so there’s really no way for me to go. I’m at his mercy and again heat floods my system at the thought.
He stares down at me silently. He’s looking at me like I could disappear, or like maybe I’m not real. I shift and the heat I was feeling before has flooded down to between my thighs.
“How did you find me?” I blurt out when the silence becomes too much.
“Didn’t your father teach you to keep track of the things that are most important to you? And to always have a plan if something you value slips through your fingers?”
“No, my father didn’t teach me that.” I let my backpack slide off as I lean over and reach for his wallet that’s under my pillow. The money's gone and already in the bank, but the rest is still there. I toss it to him and he catches it easily. “My father taught me to take what I wanted.”
He throws the wallet onto the bed next to me, not bothering to open it. “I think you have something else of mine that has a little more value.”
“Maybe not if I knew your pin number.” My smartass remarks pops right out of my mouth, shocking me a little. I normally keep those thoughts to myself, but with Bennett Hughes I can’t help myself.
“Seven-four-nine-two,” he says easily. I almost believe he’s telling me the truth. He smiles and nods at me. “Try it sometime,” he adds with that cocky-ass smile again and I hate how it’s growing on me.