Series: The Rossi Crime Family Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
I notice people’s stares, how their eyes linger on me just a little too long. It leaves an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I don’t look like any of the other girls here. In fact, I stick out like a sore thumb. I tuck a couple strands of hair behind my ear as I continue to survey the club. The staff watches me curiously, as if they don’t get Damon’s obsession with me. I want to tell them I don’t get it either, but I keep my mouth shut. I want to get out of here as soon as possible, and without making trouble for myself.
A couple strippers sneer at me as I walk past the dressing rooms, but they don’t say anything—which I’m thankful for. The club is open now, and I notice some men sitting around the center stage.
I see one of the strippers working the pole. She’s wearing nothing but a thong, her tits bouncing with every movement she makes. My cheeks heat at the image, and I avert my eyes. When one of the guys turns his attention to me, looking me up and down, I decide I’ve had enough searching for the day.
It’s painfully obvious no one here is going to let me leave, and after the way that guy stared at me like he wanted to eat me alive, there is no way I’m staying in this room, so I leave my pride behind and make my way back to Damon’s office.
He might be a monster, but I get the feeling there’re darker bastards lurking in the shadows here.
I walk swiftly down the hall and stop directly in front of Damon’s door. I twist the knob, opening it with ease, and instantly regret not knocking. Damon is behind his desk, leaning back in his chair, his eyes closed and arms behind his head. His features are full of pleasure. And as my gaze moves lower, I notice a head with long blonde hair bobbing up and down on his lap.
Oh my god, not on his lap...his cock.
She’s giving him a blow job.
My eyes bulge, the air in my lungs stills, and I swear I can hear my own heartbeat in my ears.
I don’t know who I hate more right now—him for being such an ass, or her for giving him a blowjob. Or maybe I should hate myself for feeling jealous.
Damon's eyes open a moment later and find mine like a magnet. “Ahhh, Kiera…want to join in the fun? I’m sure Hayley could give you a lesson or two, teach you the way around a dick.” The smug look on his face makes the whole situation worse. He tips his head back in pleasure, a moan escaping his full lips—lips I kissed not long ago. My hands shake, and bile begins to rise in my throat.
I can’t look at them another second.
I need to get out of here. I need to find some way to leave.
Slamming the office door for a second time tonight, I scurry back down the hall, tears threatening to escape. I try my best to blink them away, refusing to cry over Damon. He doesn’t care about me or my safety. He just cares about making me his, controlling me. I hate this place, and maybe even Damon.
Everything about him reminds me of a prison, and I want to escape—need to escape. He doesn’t intend on protecting me, so why am I still here?
You have nowhere else to go, idiot.
I huff out a breath and walk down the hall, unsure of what to do. I’ll have to wait for the perfect moment to escape, for one of the bouncers to take a break or something—which basically means I’ll have to watch as many of them as I can without drawing too much attention to myself. Until then, I’ll just walk around the bar and try to blend in. I almost laugh. I’m not dressed in sexy clothes. I look like I belong in a nunnery. There is no way in hell people aren’t going to notice me.
I move slowly out onto the floor while scanning the exit doors. Then I finally see it: my chance, my out. One of the guys at the side door leaves his post and walks up to the bar. He starts telling Candy something, and she laughs, but I don’t wait around to see what he plans to do or say next. This might be my only chance.
Trying not to run or draw any attention to myself, I move toward the door. A nervous sheen of sweat coats my hands. Every step, I expect someone to grab me from behind and drag me back to Damon’s office. My body trembles as I reach the door. My hands rest against the heavy metal, and as I push it open, I nearly pass out. When the outside air hits my lungs, I sigh in relief. I can’t believe I actually made it outside.