Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“Thanks, Ash.”
“What are you doing?” Bryant comes into the foyer, a glass of whiskey hanging from his fingertips and his suit shirt now fully unbuttoned. I can see the tattoos beneath now, the tight abs and angry muscles. I know I’ve put on a bit of weight since he last saw me, though it seems to be dropping the longer I’m here, but he doesn’t make it obvious that he has noticed. It may only be a few pounds, but If I was any other girl, having a husband who looks like Bryant would be intimidating. If there’s one thing Bryant has never failed at, it’s making me feel secure. He doesn’t just make me feel wanted, he makes me feel hunted.
“Sorry, I’ll go back to work.” Ash stands from the floor.
Bryant glares at her in passing, baring his teeth while slowly coming closer to me. He’s such an untamed beast, I almost want to lock him in a cage.
“What’s the plan? I need to know what we’re doing and why I have to keep face with Max,” I say robotically. My energy is drained, my focus waning. I’m not even sure I want any revenge at all anymore. Revenge on who? I believe Bryant and everything he’s saying, and I to an extent believe Max. Especially about the drugs.
“You won’t for long.” Bryant bends down to my level. I can smell sweet elements of the expensive whiskey teasing the tip of his tongue.
I bring my eyes to his, knowing the risk of losing my soul at his mercy. “Bryant…”
“Yo, so we need to tell her the plan—”
Bryant’s jaw tenses at the invasion of Devon.
“Yes.” I roll my eyes, standing to my feet. “Please tell me the plan.”
We make our way into the sitting room, where a fire is lit and crackling in the silence. I drop down on the sofa and cross my legs under my ass. “The sooner this is done, the better.”
“Why?” Bryant snaps from the other side of the room, where he’s pouring more whiskey into his glass.
“Jeez, husband, have I pushed you to drink?” I smirk to myself, resting my head back against the rim of the sofa.
“Only after you’ve fucked me.”
“I fucking knew it!” Devon gasps, and I lean up to glare at both of them.
“Knew what?”
“That’s your sex hair and it hasn’t changed much at all.” Devon takes a glass from Bryant and brings one to me.
I shake my head.
“Never one to turn down a drink.” Devon quirks his eyebrow at me. “Are you pregnant?”
I snarl at him. “I’ve had too much champagne already and I do want to sleep tonight. Besides, you know how I get on whiskey.”
“I do.” Devon smirks, winking at me. He grips onto the back of the couch and thrusts his hips into it. “Will. Never. Forget.”
Bryant drops down on his chair, blatantly ignoring Devon and his antics. “You gonna sit on my lap or continue to play hard to get?”
I roll my eyes. “Your fiancée is in this house, and by the way, I’m not playing hard to get. I just don’t want to be got. It’s not a game.”
His eyes continue to penetrate me from afar, as if they hold enough hunger to eat up the distance between us.
“Here’s the plan,” Devon mutters before Bryant can snap at me. He drops beside me. “And you might not like it.”
* * *
The next night, I’m slipping into a silk gown when there’s a knock on my door. Running my hands down my wide hips, I smirk in the mirror, seemingly satisfied with my appearance. “Come in!”
The door swings open, and I have to quickly recollect my composure when I see it’s not Bryant, but Max. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about Bryant and his decisions regarding me, but I’d still like to crush his nuts about it. Make him hurt a bit.
“You ready?” Max asks, stepping inside my room.
My jaw snaps closed. I have to fight with myself every single time he’s around. I want to hit him. I want to lock him in Bryant’s basement and force him to tell me what exactly he’s playing at and why he’s doing this to me.
“I am.” My eyes meet his in the mirror as he wraps an arm around my torso and leads me out the door. Something inside of me pulls and twists anytime he touches me. It’s identical to the way I felt when I woke in the cabin. It’s an eerie silence that sneaks down my spine, but enough comfort to warm me. It’s confusing.
His grip tightens around my hip as he hands me a black lace mask. I take it from him, the strings falling over my hand.
“Didn’t think you’d have brought your own, so figured…”
“Thanks.” I look up at him, searching for anything. Any hints as to why he would do this to me or what his plans are. I trusted him when I woke in the cabin. I trusted Bryant too. I freeze, quickly diverting my gaze away from him. I think it’s safe to say that my judgment when it comes to the people that I should trust is lopsided.