Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
"You want me to tell you that you have nice tits?" he asked, backing me into the corner, his hand moving out, grabbing my breast, squeezing to the point of pain. "Nice tits," he said, voice getting a little rougher as his fingers moved to pinch inward, looking for my nipple. "This is what you like, right? A man who takes charge? Takes what he wants?" he asked as his body pressed closer, his hard dick pushing against my hip.
No.
No no no no.
This couldn't be happening.
Tears filled my eyes as a strange sort of helplessness paralyzed me again, leaving me standing there, unresponsive as his hand went under my shirt, pawed at me without any barriers.
"Yeah, this is what you like. A man to take control," he said, nuzzling into my neck even as the first tear slipped down my cheek. "Are you crying?" he growled, pulling back, jaw tight again, eyes more enraged than turned on.
"Don't do this," I begged, trying to tell my arms to lift, to smack him, to shove him back. Something. Anything. What was wrong with me?
"Don't do what?" Kit growled. "Treat you like shit? Like all those other men do? Grab at you like this?" he asked, hand pressing between my legs, over my shorts, but the revulsion rose up, threatened to make the bile finally force its way out.
I don't know where the words came from, why, when there were so many others that could be said, these were the ones that came out, but they did.
"Huck didn't treat me like shit," I snapped, feeling a righteous anger start to replace the strange numbness in my body.
"Dragging you around. Forcing you to move in with him!" Kit raged.
"Like you are doing?" I snapped, watching as his face fell for a moment before the anger returned.
"Don't compare us. We're not the same. I care about you. I've always looked out for you."
"You're right," I said, feeling an unexpected calmness settling over me. "You're not the same. He's twice the man you are. And you—"
"Shut up," Kit snapped, hand moving from between my legs, pressing into the lowest part of my throat, uncomfortable, but not cutting off any air.
"He will be looking for me, you know," I added, knowing it right down to my bones. He would look for me. He would move heaven and earth to bring me back, to hurt someone who hurt me. That was the kind of man he was. Good, but ruthless. Fair, but unforgiving.
"I'm not scared of him."
"You should be," I said, raising my chin, feeling strength unfurling in my body, making my hands curl into fists.
"He's too stupid to find me," he declared, the corner of his eye twitching ever so slightly.
Was Huck a genius? No. But neither was I. Neither were most of us. But he wasn't dumb. And when it came to the criminal underbelly, he knew what he was doing. And, what said even more about him as a man, if he didn't know, he outsourced to those who did. He wasn't too proud to ask for help.
"He thinks it was the drive-by guys who hit that guy in the woods when he chased me off. He'll be chasing them around while you and I get to know each other," he said, making my stomach flip over.
"We already know each other."
"Not in all the ways I want us to know each other."
"What if I don't want that?"
"You'll learn to," he said, shrugging, anger draining, once again replaced by the lust that made me feel oddly powerless.
But I wasn't powerless.
I wasn't.
I could at least try.
I had to get out of the damn closet.
There was nothing in there to fend him off with.
If I could at least get into the bedroom, I could find something to strike him with.
If it was him or me, I wanted it to be him, damnit.
I had to try.
No matter how scared I was, how uncertain.
I couldn't sit and wait to be rescued.
I had to try to save myself.
"I could never learn to want you that way, you sick fuck," I snapped, hands raising, shoving at his shoulders even as my knee came up.
When all else failed, a knee to the groin was always a good move. And I imagined it was all the more unpleasant when you had a hard-on.
"Bitch!" he hissed, breathless, half hunched forward.
I shoved again at his shoulders, pushing him out of my path as I flew out of the closet, taking a second to slam the door, grabbing the food tray he'd brought in, all the contents falling to the floor.
I broke out of the bedroom and into a hallway that led in both directions, feeling disoriented as I ran, and my heart stuttered in my chest when I realized I took myself into a family room with no stairs, no exit save for a free fall down onto hard cement below.