Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
And . . . it’s pretty damn amazing.
Daniel’s tongue strokes against mine, soothingly at first, then with little flicks that seem to pulse all the way through my body. He kisses like he has all the time in the world to savor me, and I melt under him. This isn’t the hungry kiss of a man who’s throwing me a bone so he can get his dick sucked. This isn’t a man who wants to dominate me and show me who’s boss. This is a connoisseur, and he wants to show me how good he can make it. It’s kiss and invitation all at once.
I’m responding with lust, my own tongue meeting his, and I make a soft little noise in my throat that comes from sheer bliss. I hadn’t realized until now how much I really, really like kissing and how much I’ve missed the intimacy of it. I’ve even closed my eyes to savor the caresses of Daniel’s mouth, and I didn’t even realize it. I feel like this is what I have always needed.
And it makes me confused. Shouldn’t I be totally fucked up right now? Throwing up at Daniel’s touch? But he’s not touching me like everyone else. He’s making love to me with his mouth.
I pull away, dazed, and notice that his eyes are narrowed with desire, his lids heavy. How have I never noticed before that Daniel is so sexy? So masculine? This must be Stockholm syndrome; I’m falling for Daniel because he’s the only constant in my world.
That must be it.
I lick my lips—tasting him—and say, “We can’t separate. Every time people separate in a horror movie, the girl always has a horrible death.”
He looks surprised at my words, and then a slow smile spreads across his face. “Name one movie where that happens.”
I begin to tick them off on my fingers. “Cabin in the Woods, The Descent, Tremors—”
“Okay, okay.”
“Ghostbusters—”
He shoots me a look. “No one died in Ghostbusters.”
“Scooby-Doo—”
Daniel throws his hands up. “All right. You can come with me.” He eyes my hair. “We need a baseball cap to stuff your hair in. Maybe we won’t seem as out of place if no one can tell from a distance you’re a woman.”
I smile. “Quit trying to get rid of me, all right?”
“I’m trying to save your life. Excuse me for being cautious,” he says, and there’s a teasing note in his voice.
“I’d rather die next to you in a gunfight than be sent back to the brothel,” I answer. And I’m a hundred percent honest about that. I’m not going back. Ever.
Daniel gives me a sobering look then shakes his head. “You know, you have Daisy fooled.”
This strikes me as an odd thing to say. “Oh?”
“Yeah.” His mouth quirks up on one side, and he begins to tuck knives into my flak vest and adjusts it again. “She told me you were sweet and agreeable and wouldn’t give me any trouble.”
I can’t help it; I giggle at how rueful he sounds. Maybe I was sweet and agreeable before, but I’m not now. I’m tired of the world crapping on me, and I’m going to stand up for myself. “I guess she didn’t know me very well.”
“Guess not,” he says with amusement. “Maybe we should get to know each other better if we’re going to be glued to each other’s sides for the next week.” And his gaze slides back to my mouth, as if he’s considering all the ways he’d like to get to know me better.
And for some reason, that makes me feel good. “Well for starters, I like horror movies. And I don’t like to be left behind.”
Daniel laughs. “Darlin’, I already knew that.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
DANIEL
Recalibration of plans then. It is obvious that Regan wouldn’t stay with Pereya even if he were willing to keep her. Pereya finds some jeans and boots but no hat. Once outside the house, I take Regan’s hand. “Stick close to me,” I order unnecessarily. Her grip on my hand would have broken my fingers if I were any weaker or she were stronger. I make a mental note that we should eat before we get papers.
“There’s a protein bar in the front pocket,” I tell her. “Eat.” She definitely does not have enough food in her belly. After this, I need to take her to get a good meal.
“Are you ordering me around because you’re mad?” she asks but digs in and finds the protein bar. She breaks it in two and hands me half. While she nibbles on one end, I shove my entire part into my mouth and swallow before I respond. Regan’s a liability, but her fear is overcoming any good sense. And after what happened inside Pereya’s war room, I don’t have the heart to tell her she’s slowing me down. But I do want her to take some basic precautions. Tugging on her hand, I turn her so she can see I’m serious—but for a moment I’m lost looking down into those deep green eyes, more mysterious and beautiful than the waters of Rio. I’m so goddamn exhausted, mentally and emotionally and physically. I’d like to dive into those waters and not come up for days. It’s this endless, wearying hunt for my sister and the fear that one day I’m going to find her in a body bag. It’s knowing that scum out there like Freeze and Gomes and others seem to be winning.