Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 117451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
“Hunter.” I reach back, my fingertips brushing the delicious hardness of his abs.
“You’re a fucking angel,” he rasps.
“No,” I whisper. “Just a girl.”
“My favorite girl.” He gathers me into his arms and pulls me to the top of the bed, then urges me underneath the covers as he sets the drawers down on the floor. I realize I never figured out what he was doing when I came into the room, but he’s not doing it anymore, so it doesn’t matter quite as much.
Especially now that we’re under the covers, our warm, sated bodies pressed together. Our arms and legs are tangled and I stroke his face, because he’s just so handsome.
Soon his breathing is even and his body slack. I stroke his hair and face until my arm muscles are aching from the strain of hovering up over him. I tuck my arm back by my side and kiss his cheek. “Get some rest,” I whisper.
Then I snuggle down beside him. I might have drifted off. I can’t be sure, but when I open my eyes, I know it’s afternoon by the amber and pink tone of the light seeping through the curtains.
I blink up at the ceiling, realizing with a pleasant burst of warmth inside my chest that Hunter is wrapped around me, his face hidden in my hair.
I grin. Then I look across the room and see Priscilla.
Chapter 26
Elizabeth
HOLY SHIT. Priscilla’s eyes and mine collide, and I drag my gaze down her lithe body. She’s wearing a black pantsuit and tall red heels. Her blonde hair flows over her shoulders like she’s just come from a beauty parlor.
Her red lips curve into a twisted smile, and she purrs, “Scarlett.”
I sit up and glance wide-eyed at Hunter. He’s still sleeping. On his stomach. So I can see the half-healed welts on his back. It’s all I need to get angry—for what she’s done him, and that she’s even here at all, ruining our moment. I have no idea why Hunter’s tied up with her, but I know he shouldn’t be.
I pull the sheet around myself as I hop off the bed, moving with faux bravado. Hunter, still sleeping peacefully behind me, is my inspiration. He’s got enough on his plate with all this Sarabelle stuff. He doesn’t need a drop by from Priscilla.
Normally, my insecurity might cause me to question that—maybe he’s in love with her; blah blah blah—but after today, I know he’s not. I’m not even sure he likes her, and if nothing else, I know she won’t be as gentle with him as I will.
Holding the sheet tightly around myself with one hand, I use the other one to point at the door. “I have no idea what you’re doing here, but you need to leave. He’s asleep, as you can see. He isn’t feeling well.”
Priscilla laughs. “His little hooker. What a spitfire you are.” She rakes her mean gaze up and down me. “I’d like to know what you did to lose all that weight. That night I saw you at Hunter’s party you were quite the fatass.”
Her comment bounces off me. I stalk closer to her and jerk my finger at the door. “Get out of here. I’ll tell Hunter you came by, and he can decide if he wants to see you.” If she doesn’t leave in just a second, I might claw her.
She laughs, a throaty, knowing sound. “I see what this is. You’ve developed feelings for him.”
“I think it’s clearly mutual.”
She shakes her head and makes a tsk-ing sound. “Believe me sweetheart, you don’t want to get involved with him. He’s poison.”
I frown at her. This makes no sense. Hasn’t she spent the last few months—or even longer—having sex with him? Good sex, from what I saw through the powder room keyhole.
Intuition tells me she’s full of shit, so I roll my eyes as I wave at her again. “I know what I want, and I don’t trust a word out of your mouth.”
She shrugs. “Your choice, Triple X. But if you think he’s yours, keep dreaming.”
It takes me a second to realize she’s not calling me X-rated; she’s calling me plus-sized. I snort. “You’re ridiculous, and believe me, you really need to leave before I call security.” It’s a bluff—a stupid one, since I have no idea how much she knows about his house—but she takes a small step backward, the backs of her heels bumping the door.
“Get out of here and don’t come back. You sadist.”
I march forward, and to my shock, Priscilla turns, opens the door, and steps into the hall. “I’m going,” she says in an airy tone, “but it’s not because of you, Elizabeth DeVille. I’ll be back when Hunter has time to enjoy himself.”
I open my mouth, but a gray-haired man dressed in butler’s uniform beats me to it.