Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 91064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
“Can you help?”
“Aye.”
I fix it for her and zip her up.
And then, to keep myself focused on the task at hand, I get straight down to business. I retrieve the case that came with it, and I swear Scarlett gets excited even looking at it.
She knows it’s too big to be jewelry inside, it could only be weapons. And I would bet all the money in my bank account that my little hellraiser has some wet panties right about now.
“What is it?” she asks.
“Patience.”
I spin her around and open the case, retrieving the two black knives first. And then delicately, I trace the material around the base of her neck with the tips before I find the hidden sheaths beneath the straps of the dress.
When they are secured, Scarlett spins around to have a look in the mirror, reaching her arms back to test them out herself.
“Now this is my kind of dress,” she says, with nothing less than awe in her voice.
“It’s one of a kind,” I tell her. “Made just for you, Bonnie.”
She walks back towards me, and her eyes are hungry. When she reaches for me, I trap her wrists and plant her arse in the chair instead.
“I’m not done yet.”
I kneel down next to her this time, retrieving the lace thigh holster I ordered for her too. I slide it up over her delicate ankle and calf, my fingers brushing along her skin as I go. When my hand disappears beneath the material of her dress, she shivers and I clamp my fingers down around her flesh.
Her eyes lock onto mine, pleading for more.
My other hand moves up beneath the dress, securely lodging the small pistol inside.
She releases a breath then, and so do I.
But it’s not over yet.
I know what my little hellraiser really likes to play with. So I secure another sheath on her opposite thigh, made for her brand new stiletto knife. Just as sexy and dangerous as Scarlett herself.
“I don’t think you’ve given me enough weapons,” she laughs.
“Aye,” I agree. “I’ve got a couple more.”
I show her the matching stiletto heels. Aptly named after the very same dagger that rests aside the soft, warm skin of her creamy thigh.
They are silver with black decorative spikes.
But Scarlett, being the curious kitten that she is, knows better. When she reaches out to touch one with her finger, I try to stop her, but it’s too late.
She pricks herself, and crimson oozes from the end of her finger as she pulls it away.
“Jesus,” she says.
“Obsidian,” I explain to her as I reach for her finger and bring it to my lips.
I soothe her wound with my tongue, tasting her in the most primal of ways.
“You never told me you could get all these gadgets,” she murmurs, and she is so hot for me I can only imagine the kind of fucking we could do right about now.
“I’ve got my resources.”
She leans into my space, trying again to lure me to those deadly red lips of hers. But I pull away, shoving the case of weapons into her lap instead.
My dick is practically sawing through my jeans, and I know she knows it too.
She can smell my arousal, so close to her. Practically taste the pre-cum dripping from the head of my cock as she licks her lips.
There is no distracting her right now, even with weapons.
“Rory,” she says, her voice soft and sweet. “There’s something I want to tell you.”
I stand up and turn away from her because I can’t resist her when she’s like this. My resolve is fleeing, the longer we are alone, and I really wish her friend would hurry the fuck up and get here already.
“Tell me later,” I say gruffly.
“What if there is no later?” she whispers.
“Scarlett.”
This time I do turn and meet her gaze.
“If there’s one thing I can assure you of, it’s this. I’ve loaded ye down with weapons, but ye have no need of them. I will be right there beside you.”
“And when it’s done?” she asks.
What she means is what will happen to us. But I don’t have that answer for her yet. So I tell her the only thing I can.
“We will walk out of here together,” I assure her. “And you will be safe.”
She nods, and even the excitement over her weapons is gone.
I kneel before her again and help her into her heels, cautiously.
“These will rip out a jugular with one swipe,” I tell her. “So use them carefully.”
“I will,” she promises.
“Pick out anything else you’d like,” I say. “And leave the rest for your friend.”
She examines the rest of the objects in the case. Lipstick peppersprays and hairpin daggers, rings with hidden blades. But she doesn’t take anything else.
“You’re right,” she says, setting the case aside. “The only weapon I need is you.”