Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 114936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
He lowers his lip to my nipple, sucking it into his mouth as my back arches off the bed. “Shit—I—” My muscles release all of the pent-up adrenaline gathered in my belly, and it rushes to the tips of my toes in time for my orgasm to plow through me in aftershocks, rocking me back and forward until I almost black out from the release.
He falls beside me, his jeans partially down his thighs and my skirt tugged up around my waist. We take a moment to stare at each other in silence. Now that his hair is a mess, he looks even younger. Maybe he’s the same age as me. His mouth widens and he barks out a boyish laugh that makes him look much more harmless than what I walked in on minutes ago. Rolling off my bed, he reaches for a packet of smokes in his back pocket and bites one between his teeth, shaking his head.
I push myself up, lying sideways while he moves confidently around my space, falling onto the single sofa that’s tucked away in the darkest corner of the room. I watch as the ember on the end of his cigarette burns each time he sucks on it.
“Of course, I had to fuck you before you kidnapped me.” I’m the first to break the silence, scolding myself while ignoring the pang of guilt. Guilt for what? It’s not like I did anything wrong. But that’s the thing about guilt, it’s the emotion that tells you how you feel without you knowing it. “By the way, that’s one of the very things wrong with me as a person.” I know the time is near too, for when I have to meet my driver, but for right now, I couldn’t care. I’m a little pissed, though. I really wanted to know what these next three years entailed. This death thing is kind of killing my vibe.
“I’m not gonna kill you,” he answers behind a chuckle, flicking the ash off his cigarette into the glass of water on the small table beside him.
“Kidnap me?” I’ve been in this world since I was born, around men like him all my life. He is a killer. You can smell it on his cologne.
“Nup, not even that.” Seconds pass as I watch him smoke his cigarette. He pushes up from the chair, swoops up his discarded t-shirt, and throws it over his shoulder. As he drops his cigarette into the glass of water, his eyes darken on me. “Your brother hired me to watch you. Didn’t want you to find out but figured why the fuck not. I’m not keen on following you around like a lost puppy, so if you could just—” He drops a card onto my bed. “Text or call me when you’re in trouble, it’ll save us a lot of bullshit, you feel?” My mouth hangs open and I fight with myself to not spew out the words that are teasing the tip of my tongue.
He stops just as he opens the door, looking at me over his shoulder. “Pretty sure we’re gonna see each other often, so feel free to—” He gestures up and down my body with a nudge of his head. “Stay like that.” Then the door closes behind him and I’m left staring at a black card the color of matte satin with gloss wording over the top that reads ELI REBELLIS.
A black city car rolls to a stop outside the hotel, and I swipe my sweaty palms down my thighs as I stare at the chrome handle. I don’t know anything about whatever the hell I’m about to walk into. I’m hoping it doesn’t have anything to do with riding, since I want to keep that purely for enjoyment, but then what else does that leave me with? Most of the other acts are taken, and I’m not dancing. Not because I’m bad at it, it’s just that—no.
I pull the door open and slide into the back seat, crossing my legs.
“Hello, darling. How are you feeling?” Eyes the color of warm whiskey, and skin smooth like silk. Delila doesn’t look a day over thirty.
“Good.” The car pulls away from the curb.
“Surprised to see me?” she asks, slowly bringing her cigarette to her lips and puffing on the end. The smell lingers in the small space like burned lungs. It’s going to take at least three washes to get it out of my hair.
“No.” I shuffle farther back into my chair. “Since I spoke with you on the phone.”
She studies me closely, her slanted eyes shifting around my body carefully before settling back on my face. “This is going to be perfect for you, Cartier. You’re going to be the best we’ve had. Tell me—” she adds with a softer tone, crossing her leg over the other to flash her Valentino spiked heels with little chains that hang off the back. “Just how much have they told you? I suspected your brother would have filled you in with everything that goes on. We need you on the inside.”