Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79941 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79941 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
When they got to what appeared to be an empty parking space, Courick reached into the pocket of his uniform trousers and pulled out what looked like an alien key fob. He pressed a button and the air in the empty space shimmered, revealing a sleek silver vehicle that looked like a race car.
“Come on, let’s get you settled.”
He went around to the passenger side and opened the door. Addison started to get in, but he stopped her with a frown.
“Wait—I know you must be in pain from the beating you took. Let me see if I can find anything you can sit on.”
“Oh, that’s really not necessary,” Addison protested. She could feel her cheeks heating with embarrassment. “I mean, you don’t really need to—”
“Yes, I do,” he said firmly. “Now, let me see…”
He looked around in the back of the car but finally he shook his head.
“I’m sorry—there’s no room to expand the ship in this space and I don’t have anything else at hand, so I’ll have to use this.”
As Addison watched, he began unbuttoning the deep crimson, long-sleeved uniform shirt he was wearing.
“No, wait!” she exclaimed. “You don’t have to…to do that…” Her last words trailed off to a murmur because he had already stripped off the shirt, baring his muscular chest. Damn it—why did he have to look so good shirtless? Just looking at him made her feel nervous and shy and hot all at once. It reminded her of the time she’d seen him naked in the shower!
Now why did you have to go and think of that? She asked herself in exasperation as Courick folded the shirt carefully and placed it on the passenger side seat. Like you weren’t already flustered enough!
“There—hopefully that will help at least some until I can get your wounds tended to,” he said, nodding at the shirt.
Addison felt she had no choice but to sit. She perched carefully on the seat and had to admit that the uniform shirt did make it softer. The shirt was made of some heavy, thick, satiny material which cushioned her wounded ass nicely.
“All right?” Courick asked, raising his eyebrows once she got settled.
“Yes. Thank you.” Addison nodded. “Er, I’d better get buckled up. But…how do you work this seatbelt?”
There was a bewildering array of straps—two at her shoulders, two and her hips and one that appeared to come up between her legs.
“It’s a five-point harness. Here—let me.”
Courick leaned over her and quickly adjusted the straps, clicking them into place and then testing to make sure they were secure. Addison bit her lip when he reached for the strap between her legs but to her mingled regret and relief, he only pulled it up tight and made sure it was secure.
At last, he seemed satisfied. Getting into the driver’s side, he turned to her.
“All right—let’s take you home.”
“Do you need the address?” Addison asked.
He shook his head.
“I’ve been following you home all week—I know where you live.”
The way he just came out and admitted he’d been following her made her jaw drop.
“Seriously? All week?”
“Ever since I saw those marks on your ass.” His voice dipped down to a growl as he pulled out into traffic. “I wanted to be sure the one who gave them to you wasn’t hurting you anymore.”
“Uh…” Addison wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Well, you got him tonight,” she said at last, weakly.
“I only wish I’d finished him.” His fingers tightened on the steering yoke. “Scum like that doesn’t deserve to live.”
“Wow…” Addison shook her head. “You’re really protective, considering I’m just your assistant,” she pointed out.
“You’re not just my assistant—you’re a female without any other male protection,” he shot back. “And you’re living in a society where males often prey on females. It’s sickening.”
“Yes, it is,” Addison admitted. She had friends who loved true crime podcasts, but she couldn’t listen to them herself. They were almost all about hapless women who had gotten killed by men who treated them like prey—just like Courick said. “I guess it’s different for the Kindred?” she asked, looking over at him.
“Very different.” The muscles in his long arms flexed as he moved the steering yoke. “We believe that all female life is sacred. To hit or hurt a female is anathema to us. And any male who likes to do such things is considered twisted or broken.” He glanced in her direction. “A male like the one who was hurting you tonight wouldn’t be allowed to live in Kindred society. He would be tried for his crimes and executed at once so that he couldn’t spread his twisted seed and make more like himself.”
“Wow,” Addison murmured again. She had known that the Kindred revered females, but she hadn’t quite realized how much they cared for them or how seriously they took the matter of abuse.