Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 87943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
The stalker still said nothing as he grabbed Geoffrey roughly by the upper arm and tried to drag him back down the opposite direction. He wanted to scream, to cry out to the people just a short distance away, but his throat was raw from the damn smoke. They’d never hear him.
Reaching out to hook his fingers on the broken cobblestone, his fingers brushed against the sticky neck of an old beer bottle. He grabbed it and swung around, slamming it against the side of the fucker’s head. He’d hoped to hit his face, but the bottle shattered all the same. The man grunted and immediately released Geoffrey, falling backward.
Nearly sobbing, Geoffrey shoved back to his feet and ran down the alley, lurching out into the main street. People were gathered in little clusters in the empty street. He saw some people scratched and battered from their escape. Most faces were streaked with tears from eyes irritated by the smoke. Sirens echoed in the distance, but he couldn’t tell whether it was cop, fire, or ambulance. Probably all of the above.
He didn’t fucking care because he finally spotted Sven. He stood a short distance off, his hands tightly clenched in Royce’s T-shirt. His handsome face was twisted with panic and rage.
“Sven!” Geoffrey croaked, but it was loud enough to catch Sven’s attention.
He ran the short distance to his bodyguard and launched himself at the larger man. Sven didn’t hesitate—simply scooped him up into his strong arms so that Geoffrey could easily wrap his arms around his neck while wrapping his legs around his waist. Sven’s large hands came down on his body, holding him tight as he carried him a short distance away. It was only when Geoffrey felt the rough bit of brick against his back that he realized that Sven had darted down a nearby alley across the street from the club.
With his hands now free, Sven cupped both his cheeks and pulled back so that he could look over every inch of Geoffrey’s face. “Are you okay?” His eyes locked on to the spot on his cheek where the stalker had punched him, but Geoffrey didn’t want to think about it.
“I’m okay. I swear. I’m okay,” Geoffrey repeated, though he was now shaking uncontrollably. His voice was a low rasp, but he could finally drag in a few deep breaths now that he was safe in Sven’s arms again. He’d kill for his inhaler to open his airways up, but the bodyguard was a great stress reliever.
Sven slammed his mouth down over Geoffrey’s, and the world fell completely away. There were no sirens, no lingering acrid scent of smoke, or people talking just a few feet away. There was only the overwhelming heat of Sven’s mouth and his tongue as it slid deftly into his mouth. Geoffrey moaned, welcoming him. Sven laid claim to him like a raiding Viking horde landing on virgin soil. He let Sven possess him completely and he loved every damn second.
The kiss was everything he had dreamed it could be with Sven and so much more. Sven was commanding and powerful with each bold stroke, and then with a soft whimper of need from Geoffrey, he became gentle. So much passion wrapped up tightly inside of Sven just waiting to be unleashed.
And Geoffrey was ready to be the focus.
Someone close by cleared their throat once…twice…sigh, three times. Geoffrey chose to ignore it, but Sven finally heard the person and broke off the kiss. He paused, staring deep into Geoffrey’s eyes. His green eyes were wide and a little lost for a moment before he looked away from Geoffrey. Royce stood a couple of feet away, his arms folded over his chest and a smirk on his lips. Why couldn’t the other bodyguard have walked away?
“Dominic got Quinn to the SUV safely,” Royce said. “You need me to stick around?”
Sven shook his head, looking as if he was about to release the man when Geoffrey remembered his attacker. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten, but then Sven was a hell of a kisser.
“Someone grabbed me,” he quickly spit out, wincing as everything came out scratchy. Sven’s hands dropped to his back and waist, tightening as if he was afraid someone would rip him away. A deep warmth swelled and flowed through his veins at the feeling, but he tamped it down. He’d think on Sven’s reaction later.
“Who? Did you see him?” Both Sven and Royce questioned him at the same time.
Geoffrey shook his head and then cleared his throat before speaking again. “Too much smoke. He wore a dark hoodie and, I think, a mask. Taller than me. Never saw his face. Definitely a guy.”
None of it was much to go on. Most of the men in the club were taller than him and the person could have put the hoodie on at any point.