Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 79020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
So, I spin her around, my fingers around her throat rather than teasing her clit.
Her breathing grows even more ragged, her pupils so wide, I can barely see her pretty blue irises in the overcast moonlight.
Her hands cover mine, but it feels more like she's attempting to anchor herself rather than fighting for me to let her go.
I feel the bob of her throat as she swallows, her eyelids narrowing to slits, and it doesn't take a genius to tell she's aroused. Fuck if that knowledge doesn't make my cock leak in my damn jeans.
When her teeth dig into her lower lip, as if she's fighting the urge to beg me for something she knows better than to ask for, I'm struggling with the idea of giving her exactly that.
"Please," she manages, and I swear, a weaker man, one who finds it difficult to resist certain urges, would give her exactly what she's begging for.
I lean in close, incapable of clamping down the groan at the sight of her licking her lips in anticipation. Her pulse, amazingly, quickens even further under my grip.
I'm not holding her hard. I'm not impeding her ability to breathe, but it isn't a gentle touch either. There's aggression in it, frustration in the way I'm touching her because I'm fighting a battle of my own. I can't let that side of me win, no matter how fast my brain is trying to reanalyze this new turn of events. I had every intention of scaring the shit out of her, of forcing her to tell me everything.
A thorough investigation of the outside of this building proved there were no cameras, and no video feed to capture this confrontation. It annoyed me more than anything, knowing she was inside alone while I crept along the outside of the place. It could mean there's nothing illegal going on around here, or it could mean Wilkinson doesn't want any evidence of what he's doing. It doesn't change the fact that I could've been anyone. I could be someone who wanted to hurt her rather than being a man who would find no joy if the tables turned and I was put in that position.
"Please what?" I snap, pushing myself against her once again and rolling my hips. "Is this what you want?"
I took her declaration earlier of just wanting a quick fuck as her response to the way I was ignoring her. I figured it was an attempt to get a little of her power back, and that conclusion was set a little more in stone when I got her file from Ace.
Zara Hailey, formerly Wilkinson, is Tommy's ex-sister-in-law. She moved from a small town in Kentucky just a couple of months ago after her ex-husband was sentenced to fifteen years in prison for the distribution of narcotics. I still have no details on whether or not she's in some sort of relationship with Tommy or if she's helping him run some sort of alternate business from The Lost Kitten. There's very little evidence from what I've been able to gather that anything untoward is going on around here.
With a moan, she nods her head, her way of begging for me to take what she's so clearly offering.
I've faced some difficult decisions, and this shouldn't be one of them. It should be easy to take a step back and walk away. Hell, it should be easy to fuck her right here and have it mean absolutely nothing, but for some reason, I know it's not that simple. The silence in my head right now, other than that urgency to lick and bite at her skin, proves there's not a damned thing simple about Zara-fucking-Hailey.
"You don't deserve to get what you want," I manage, my words hateful and a complete contradiction to the way I lean in and let the scent of her skin once again invade my senses.
Where the fortitude to step back and release her comes from, I'll never fucking know, but I do, watching as she covers her throat with her own hands as if she misses my touch already.
"Get in your fucking car and go home," I growl, tilting my head up and staring at the starless sky overhead.
The brush of her hand down my arm startles me. She isn't supposed to be so willing to touch me, but then I realize she's reaching for her keys that are still in the clutch of my hand. A minor sting of pain is left behind once they're free, telling me just how tightly I was holding on to them.
It's difficult to let her walk away, the calmness she brings me fading with every step she takes in the direction of her car. Most people live for the thrill, but I exist in that heightened state all the time. She brought relief from it, but clinging to her isn't an option.