Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 135799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
“This is my driveway.”
“Your driveway?” I gasp. “All this land is yours? Holy hell, Elliot.”
A trace of a smile crosses his face as we wind up the hill on the small road. I can’t see much because it’s so dark, but there are loads of trees in the headlights.
“This is only temporary,” he says, his eyes still on the road.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m going to live in the house for a few months as it is, work out what works and what doesn’t, and then renovate or rebuild. It’s very”—he pauses as if searching for the right word—“original, in its current state.”
“I like original.”
“I like you,” he fires back as his eyes flick over.
I smile. “I like you too.”
He reaches over and runs his hand up my thigh. “You can show me just how much in a minute.” He slides his hand under my dress and rubs the backs of his fingers over my sex.
And there he is, the bona fide sex maniac that I know so well. “If you behave,” I whisper.
He lets out a deep chuckle and I look out of the windshield, and my eyes widen in shock. “This is your new house?”
“Yes.” He pulls the car into a large circular parking area and turns the car off.
“Holy shit, Elliot.”
He leans over and kisses me. “Come.” He gets out and opens my door, and takes my hand and leads me up to the veranda of the grand house.
It’s huge and like something out of a movie, and it’s pitch-black inside.
“Put your phone light on for me.”
I fumble with my phone and put the flashlight on and shine it on the door.
He takes a set of keys out of his pocket and, in the distance, I hear the sounds of animals in the fields that surround us. I look out into the deserted darkness. It’s a little bit scary out here, if I’m honest.
He puts one key in and it doesn’t turn, so he tries another. “Fucking keys,” he whispers.
I smile as I watch him struggle; so unlike him to not know how to do something.
“Do you want me to try?” I ask.
“No,” he snaps. “I’m perfectly capable of working a lock, Kathryn.”
“But are you?”
He glances up, unimpressed.
I giggle and hold my hands up playfully. “Okay. Sorry, boss.”
He struggles with the key and I run my hand down his back and over his tight ass. “That’s more like it,” he mutters as he keeps trying. “Keep doing that.” He fumbles some more. “Why are there so many fucking keys on this ring?” He jiggles the huge door with force.
“You must have a lot of doors.”
“That are about to be kicked in,” he snaps in frustration. The door finally gives way, and he pushes it open. It lets out a long, slow creak as it swings and I shine my phone light inside.
“Where are the light switches?” I ask.
“Who knows?” He takes my hand and leads me inside. “Shine the flashlight on the walls.”
I giggle as I do as I’m told. This is so unexpected. “There they are. Next to the door, imagine that?”
Elliot flicks them on and the room is brought into the light. I look around at the grandeur and my mouth falls open.
“Elliot,” I gasp.
“You like?” He smiles softly as he looks around.
“Oh my God, I love.” I look around in awe. “This is incredible.”
I turn back to see Elliot staring at me intently, and my heart constricts. I wasn’t lying before, I don’t know what this is between us.
But it makes me feel everything.
The good, the bad, and the ugly . . . but mostly, alive.
I twist my fingers in front of me. “Thank you for inviting me to stay here on your first night . . . it means a lot.”
“Well.” He shrugs casually. “I need someone to use as a shield, on account of the ghosts.”
I giggle and step toward him and he takes me into his arms, and we kiss.
Ever so gently, he melts toward me. The emotion bounces between us like an echo.
And I know it shouldn’t, but this feels real.
A frown crosses his brow, and he pushes the hair back from my forehead as he looks down at me. He presses his lips together as if stopping himself from saying something out loud.
Why does he do that?
“Do you need to eat . . . or?”
“I don’t know what I need anymore,” he whispers as he stares at me.
“I do.” I take his hand and lead him toward the stairs. “Where is your bedroom?” I ask.
“Upstairs somewhere, I have no fucking clue.”
I giggle and he pulls me back by the hand and I slam into his body, and he kisses me.
Hard and urgent and the emotion behind it tears my heart wide open.
He leads me up the grand double-width staircase, and when we get to the top, it falls into pitch-black darkness again. “Are there really ghosts here?” I whisper.