Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
“Fine. If you want me to treat you like one, congratulations. I’ll let you be my little slut.”
I tore away from him, wounded and feverish. Even at the height of our hatred, he’d never dared speak to me like that. There’d always been an undercurrent of respect. There wasn’t now.
He advanced, searing his hand on my waist until I thought my bones would char to dust. His lips dragged across my cheek, settling on the shell of my ear. “Get on your knees, take out my cock, and jerk me off until I come all over your ‘outfit.’ Go ahead. Do it.”
My left knee buckled on instinct, but I forced myself to remain upright. Brutal wind lashed at us. The curls I’d worked so hard on earlier whipped around us like blades of a blender. I was distinctly aware that the only thing keeping my nipples from the eyes of every man here was the nervous sweat that glued the tiny scrap covering them to my skin.
If only I had the guts, I’d call his bluff. Lower to my knees. Take him into my mouth in front of all his employees. But I didn’t. Instead, I rooted to the ground, afraid I’d topple if I moved, yet knowing Romeo would never let me fall.
“That’s what I thought, Shortbread.” His fingers coasted just beneath my dress, digging into my thigh. “I’m going to burn this outfit to the fucking ground, along with everything else I find unsuitable, as soon as I arrive home tonight. Guess you’ll be free of me after all.”
“Free?” My mouth dried. I didn’t want that at all. Quite the opposite. “Where are you going?”
“Jail.”
“What?”
“Where else would I land after I rip out the eyes of every man who used them to undress you?”
Searching his face for sarcasm, all I found was crisp blankness and a warning of what was to come. Across the tarmac, the car beckoned me, inviting me to flee. But I refused to lose face in front of his father and colleagues. I’d never give Romeo the satisfaction.
“Aww.” I brushed invisible lint from his suit. “Scared I’ll run off with a real man? Maybe one without daddy issues the size of Viet Nam?” I ignored his hard glare. “Did I say Viet Nam? Too small. I meant China.”
“Watch your mouth.” He plowed his fingers into my hair in what might’ve looked like a tender caress from afar, but there was no mistaking the warning in his tug. “Or tonight, I’ll fuck it so hard you won’t be able to eat for a week.”
His words shouldn’t have dampened my panties.
They did, nonetheless.
More than anything, I was pathetically glad he still wasn’t done with me.
I pasted on a smile. “Try and put your dick in my mouth, baby. I’ll bite it off and fulfill your wish to never have kids in this lifetime.”
“Dallas, honey.” Senior waved a hand for me to join him. “Come on. We’re about to start the drill. You don’t want to miss this thing of beauty.”
I hurried to him, mainly so I could escape Romeo before I lost it. When I reached Senior, he kissed my cheek, handing me plastic glasses. “I hope my son isn’t giving you too much trouble.”
Bruce forked over noise-canceling earmuffs. “Junior can be a bit immature.”
I turned away, trying to focus on the Humvee. Khaki-colored, with wheels big enough to flatten a strip mall, and probably paid for by my tax dollars. Well, Romeo’s tax dollars. Perks of unemployment.
Senior gestured to the vehicle. “We’re the sole contractors for the U.S. Army’s eight prototype Humvees. This is our latest creation.” He planted a hand on Bruce’s forearm for balance. “We produce over twenty thousand Humvees a year, but none are half as sophisticated as this baby right here. The HMWWV3.”
I could think of a catchier name, but it probably wasn’t my place to suggest a marketing overhaul. Plus, weapons tended to sell themselves without the help of jingles and radio ads. I nodded and glared at the machine-gun mount, channeling all my efforts into ignoring the prior showdown. I’d never been as humiliated as today. Just when we’d approached some kind of a ceasefire, too.
I forced myself to focus, refusing to search for Romeo. “What’s so special about it?”
“Glad you asked.” Senior laced his arm with mine and approached the Kevlar door, his steps uneven and weak. “The battlefield glass is resistant enough to survive a direct hit. It’s also lightweight. Our fastest Humvee to date. It can carry triple the military equipment of our competitors and includes shock absorbers capable of withstanding most ballistic missiles.”
“Oh.”
Lovely contribution, Dal. What next? A dissertation?
What I really wanted to know was where Romeo went. It struck me as bizarre that he’d miss out on any opportunity to trample Bruce in front of his father.