Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“I’m going to open the windows now,” he said as he set me on my feet. He lifted my chin and stared at me. “Do not even think about running.”
“Run? Where would I run?” I asked, semi-hysterically. He narrowed his eyes and pressed a hard kiss to my mouth, leaving me standing there. I looked around and saw a couch. It didn’t look too dusty. I sat down gingerly and took stock of the situation.
Preacher was mad.
Scratch that. Preacher was mad and jealous.
Preacher was mad and jealous enough to have abducted me. Well, with my permission but still.
I was in the middle of nowhere with a man who had promised retribution.
And most importantly:
I knew Preacher would never, ever hurt me.
So what on earth did he have in mind?
Then I heard it. A loud scratching noise.
Right. Beneath. My. Feet.
I jumped up to crouch on the couch as something rustled under the floorboards, moving fast.
“Eeeeek!”
Yes, I literally screamed like the virgin in a horror movie. Except I wasn’t a virgin anymore. I was knocked up by a wild man in the middle of nowhere.
It really was starting to seem like a horror movie.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. That’s just Glen.”
“Glen?” I looked up at Preacher, not sure how to read him. He wasn’t smiling, but he had just called me sweetheart. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, after all. “Who is Glen?”
“My opossum.”
“Do they carry rabies?”
“Rabies? I don’t think so. I know that they eat bugs. Very helpful creatures. Never once had an issue in here with pests since he moved in. No mice. Not even a spider.”
My mouth dropped open.
“Really?”
“Yes, really,” he said. Then I noticed the metal in his hands. Metal circles attached to chains.
Oh. My. God.
“What are those?” I asked, my eyes wide.
“Shackles.”
“What, exactly, do you think you’re doing with those?”
He stared at me, then slowly raised his eyebrows. And I knew. The man thought he was going to chain me up.
“Oh, hell no, you won’t!”
He reached for me. I tried to get away. I did. But my legs were too short and he was way too tall.
Once again, I was lifted and carried, this time to a bedroom. He murmured that he had just changed the sheets as he set me down on the bed, holding tightly to one leg. I watched in horror as he fit one shackle over one leg and snapped it shut.
There was a chilling finality in that sound. I shivered, tugging on it as he took the chain and fed it through a bolt on the floor below the bed. Then he turned and looked at me, weighing another set of chains in his hand.
Clearly, he was deciding whether he should chain up my other leg. Or my arms. I swallowed nervously, my mouth suddenly dry.
“Con dropped these off for me.”
“Con? Another criminal?” I hissed. I might have liked his friends who came to stay with us, but at the moment, I was feeling less than charitable toward his lifestyle. What kind of man chained up a woman? A pregnant woman, no less?
“No, actually, he’s an FBI agent,” Preacher said with a grin. He was looking much more relaxed all of a sudden. I stared at him, realizing he really had thought I was going to take off with Zach.
I sighed, deciding I’d better make the best of the situation. If that were even possible. Preacher cleared his throat, looking like he was feeling a little guilty.
Good! I hope he does!
“Are you thirsty? Hungry? Need to use the bathroom?”
“Thirsty,” I said, suddenly wondering how the hell I would get to the bathroom. I didn’t even know where it was. Then again, there was a lot of slack on the chain, I realized.
He nodded and went to get me a glass of water. He handed it to me, watched me take a few sips, and then took it away, setting it on a dresser across the room. I stared at his broad back as he started pulling off his clothes. First the jacket, revealing cut arms and a worn-in black tee. Then the shirt, and I saw the huge, broad shoulders, a strong back, and the massive tattoo of a skull with thorns and roses growing out of it.
Then he kicked off his boots. There was something ominous about the sound of those boots landing on the ground. I was pretty sure I was still in a horror movie, and I was about to meet the bad guy.
Preacher turned around, his hand on his belt buckle. My mouth went dry again as he unhooked it, then pulled open the tab on his jeans and undid the zipper.
The belt buckle clanged as it hit the ground. But I was too busy staring at his massive, erect cock to notice. Preacher was hard. Really hard. Maybe even harder than I’d ever seen him.