Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
“You’re in a club? What kind of club?” Carson questions.
“Biker club.”
Carson’s brows go up. “You’re kidding?”
“Had to start anew, brother, and those guys took me in. They’re good men, good people, I’ll introduce you to them.”
Carson purses his lips and then shrugs. “Whatever makes you happy, man. Now sit down, we have a lot to talk about including how the fuck I thought you were dead. That was the hardest news outside of Sean I’ve ever had. I’m in shock, I think.”
“I’ll get some drinks,” I say.
The two men sit down and start talking. I go inside and get them some more beers and make myself another vodka. Who is Sean? I make a note to ask Bohdi. The more and more I get to know him, the more and more I realize his life is far more complicated than I could have ever guessed. It’s like with every turn you take into his history, you come up against a brand new truth that stuns you.
I take the drinks out and we all talk until the very early hours of the morning. By the time Carson leaves, I’m drunk. I don’t think I’ve been this drunk since I was young and on drugs. The feeling causes me some stress, because the idea of losing control of myself has always bothered me.
“I still can’t believe you two know each other,” I say to Bohdi once Carson has left.
“Small world,” he murmurs, turning to me. “Are the two of you going to date?”
I blink, swaying a little. “What?”
“You seemed pretty cozy when I arrived.”
“He’s a nice guy. That’s it, Bohdi. But even if I did decide to date, you can’t really be angry at me.”
Also, I forgot how alcohol makes me far more likely to say what I’m thinking, another thing I don’t really enjoy.
“Are you tryin’ to hurt me?”
I blink, shaking my head. “You’re kidding, right? If anyone is hurting anyone, it’s you hurting me.”
“I’ve been honest with you, Merleigh.”
“Have you, though? Have you?”
“Yeah, I fuckin’ have.”
“Then why can’t you give me a straight answer about Isla? Why can’t you just tell me the truth when it comes to her instead of dancing around it every time we talk?”
Bohdi looks shocked at my outburst. To be fair, I’m shocking myself. Alcohol is giving me the kind of courage I really don’t need, but I can’t stop myself. I’m frustrated and maybe I’ve just had enough of feeling like that.
“I have given you an answer, it’s just an answer you don’t like. Is this your way of punishing me?”
I laugh bitterly. “You mean by meeting a random stranger and being his friend?”
Bohdi’s jaw ticks.
“I told you what I wanted, Bohdi. You chose not to give it to me, or even give me a damned answer. You have no right to come in here and act like I matter, no right.”
I spin on my heel and go to storm off, but his hand lashes out and catches my arm, spinning me around so hard I slam into his body. With a feral growl, he tells me, “You have always fuckin’ mattered.”
Then his mouth is on mine.
I’ve thought about this kiss so many times—god, so many. Nothing could have ever prepared me for just how good it would feel. His mouth is rough, and yet incredibly careful. He tastes incredible, and he kisses like a man starved of love. His hand tangles into my hair, his mouth devours mine, and I can’t hold back anymore.
I kiss him back with a ferocity I didn’t know I had in me.
I whimper against his mouth when his hand slides down my back, so carefully, so sexually.
I want him.
I’m also terrified.
So when he backs me into the cabin, I let him.
When he lays me down on the sofa, I let him.
When his mouth trails over my body, I let him.
When he removes my pants, I let him.
It’s when his fingers trail dangerously close to a part of my body that nobody has ever touched with love or affection, that the memories flash back. They’re memories I wish would stay away, I had hoped would stay away because up until this point, they had.
But they’re here.
Flooding back in.
Horror.
“Please,” I whimper. “Please don’t, I’m begging you.”
“Be quiet, girl,” he snarls. “You’ll do whatever the hell I tell you to do. I didn’t pay for nothing.”
I’ve tried fighting, tried kicking, tried screaming.
“Please,” I beg again, as if it’ll make any difference.
I’m tied, pinned down and unable to move. My legs are spread wide open and this sick man is preparing to do awful things to me, a smile on his face that makes my stomach turn.
Why would this be okay?
Why is this okay?
“If you don’t shut up, you’re not going to like what I do to you. Consider yourself warned.”
“I’m begging you. I’m a good person, I’ve never done anything wrong, I don’t deserve this, please don’t do this to me.”