Never Have I Ever Read Online S.L. Scott

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
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“We’ll talk about it when you’re back in LA and have more battery charge. Drive safely.”

I should have asked sooner, but this opportunity came up so fast that I jumped without considering it. I regret not thinking twice or reading the fine print.

The agency made it sound like a piece of cake.

That jerk is no cake I’ve ever tasted.

The worst part, if the “get the fuck out” can be topped, I might not ever know his name, but I’ll despise the man for the rest of my life. I’ll check the contract and nondisclosure agreement I signed because I need to know who to hate.

“I will. Talk soon. Bye.” As soon as I hang up, a sudden jolt puts me on alert. A surge makes me sit up straighter and tighten my grip on the steering wheel. While depressing the brake, I roll down the window to listen. Hearing a whining noise coming from the engine, I tap the steering wheel. “No. No. No. No. Noooo.”

I squint to see if I can spot any lights ahead, but I’ve barely made it off the asshole’s property, so I know I’m not close to town. Panic sets in as I glance down at my phone, remembering it’s about to die. Like me on the side of this road when an ax murderer finds me stranded and all alone.

Another surge forces the car forward. “Please,” I quietly plead. “Please just get me to a gas station.” I rub the steering wheel, hoping the car will accept my apology. Checking the side mirror, I don’t see another car in the vicinity, but it’s clear the car can’t be driven in this condition. Just as I start to slow, though, fear rattles through me. I can’t just sit here all night, hoping someone passes by.

The car begins to slow on its own, and when I hear sputtering, I know I need to get off the road. Pulling onto the dirt shoulder, I just make it before the engine dies entirely.

At least my headlights—Oh shoot. Don’t tell me my battery died. I flick the lights on and off again but get the same outcome. I’m stuck in complete darkness.

And this is how I die . . .

Panic matches my racing thoughts. What should I do? I grab my phone, practically another limb of my body, and am about to call 911, but just as I unlock it, it dies, too.

It’s tempting to scream, to get out my frustration, my fears, and any strong emotion that won’t serve me well. But I don’t.

I won’t.

It feels like I’m giving the jerk the upper hand, though he’ll never be the wiser. I can handle my shit. This is nothing to worry about. Still holding my phone and ready to use it as a weapon, I step out of the car to get a bearing of my surroundings. I’m not near an edge or anything, and although there’s a curve up ahead, I’m on a little straightaway. That will be good for visibility. This will be fine. I walk up a few feet to read what the nearest sign says.

“Bear crossing.”

Great, there are bears out here. Why did I assume the main wildlife I’d encounter would be deer? Maybe because the town is literally named Deer Lake. I’m getting bears instead. Naturally . . .

It’ll be one big party with me as the main course.

I rush back to my car and get in, locking all the doors. Unfortunately, my automatic window is stuck rolled down. Crawling over the console, I’m halfway to the back seat when I realize I should arm myself the best I can with a weapon stronger than a dead iPhone. That means one thing—my knives.

The next thing to cross my mind—they’re in the trunk. In my rush to leave, I threw everything in the back to sort out once I got back to LA. Now I’m damning myself for letting that guy affect me so much. If it weren’t for him, I would have properly packed.

Though I can admit my stuff still would have been in the trunk, it’s more fun to blame him.

After wedging myself into the driver’s seat again, I go to the back of the car, listening carefully for the sound of anything hiding in the trees ready to attack me. It’s starting to feel like I don’t have a chance in hell of surviving. If a bear doesn’t get me, I’ll do my own head in by worrying about them.

With no light, it’s hard to see where the knives landed, so I dig deeper toward the back to feel around for the package. “Ah. Yes. Thank God.” I reach even farther to find the handle when my whole trunk lights up. I jump, bumping my head, and turn around to wave down help, but I only catch the taillights as a truck rounds the corner.


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