Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 89228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Or it could end in tearful hyperventilation.
The bathroom door opened with a whoosh that sounded like the air rushing from his lungs. Sweet mother of sin, he'd told her cosmetics would defile the natural perfection of her face, but as she lingered in the doorway, shoulders back, arms at her sides, one long leg bent before the other, he stood tongue-tied and stupefied.
The raw, disheveled knockout he drooled over every waking hour had transformed into an untouchable, world-class beauty queen. It was impossible to keep his cock down while admiring her tight body wrapped in hip-hugging silk. Dark hair curled around her face and chest. Deep crimson painted her lips, and her thick lashes went on forever, highlighting her shining eyes.
Toned legs flaunted delectable flesh from thigh to ankle, her feet arched in the black fuck-me heels he hadn't been able to pass up at the boutique, and her smile... Fuck him.
He wanted to lick along the curves of her tits rising above the low neckline and bite the taut nipples pressing against the silk. The view spoiled him, and there wasn't a man on earth who deserved to look at her. “Let's stay home.” Christ, he needed to be inside of her.
The smile gracing those red lips widened. “You look good, too, Van.” Her gaze roamed his body, turning the stiffness in his pants into a throbbing monster.
Her nostrils flared as if she were trying to smell him from across the room. “So incredibly handsome. Wish I had panties.” She twisted to look at her ass. “When I sit down, I'm going to leave a wet spot.”
Fuck it. A quickie against the wall wouldn't make them too late. He strode toward her and grabbed her hips, leaning in to take her mouth.
His lips crashed into her halting palm. “No kissing.” She pinched his chin. “You'll smudge the makeup.”
Then she definitely wouldn't be down with what he had in mind. He adjusted his erection and straightened his tie. “We better go or we won't be going at all.”
Her easy playfulness vanished instantly, and she cast a fearful look at the front door.
Even a non-agoraphobe would've approached this meeting with a healthy amount of nervousness. Hell, his stomach would be all kinds of fucked up by the time they arrived. With any luck, she would be too anxious about being outside to muster any additional worries about impressing his former slaves. She had enough to focus on.
“Hey.” He cupped her face, turning her eyes to him. “I parked the Mustang right outside the door. Just like we practiced.”
She nodded with an expression so fearfully hopeful, it hurt to see it. They'd driven to the end of the property every day for the past week. Yesterday was the first day she hadn't fainted during the two-minute drive.
He gripped her hand and led her calmly to the front door. “Your steps are mine, Amber. I won't leave your side.”
If they made it out of the driveway, it would be her first time off the property since he'd abducted her two months ago.
Her breath stuttered as they hit the porch. It was spastic by the time they reached the end of the driveway. He rolled to a stop and softened his voice with patience. “How are we doing?”
She popped her knuckles, her eyes squeezed shut, her chest jumping with shallow breaths. “Just keep...going. Don't stop.”
She'd told him once how strangers' eyes felt like loaded guns aimed at her head. She was about to face a firing squad, and she'd bravely demanded that he keep going.
He slid his hand around the back of her neck, beneath her hair, and squeezed. “I love you, you crazy woman.”
Her head nodded with a jerk, her smile quivering the corner of her mouth. “You, too,” she whispered. “Now drive.”
He gripped the wheel and began the painful trek toward downtown Austin.
Thirty minutes later, he parked the car in front of a quaint Italian restaurant, his stomach in knots. The sign read No Parking, but he didn’t give a fuck. The tension in the car had been rolling off her since they'd left, and the combustion was three, maybe four breaths away.
Releasing their seat belts, he twisted toward her and grabbed her ice-cold face. “Amber? Talk to me.”
Her eyes were closed. They had been the duration of the drive. Another wave of tension vibrated off of her. She opened her mouth to speak, and her voice cut off with the wheeze of her lungs.
Goddammit, she wasn't ready for this. But if he drove her home without letting her try, it would steal the decision from her. “Look how far you've come. You can do this, sweetheart.”
Blindly, her hand fumbled for the door handle. It shook so badly, she wouldn't be able to pull the latch even if she found it.
“I'm going to get out and open your door for you.”