Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
There had to be a way out. Maybe he was just punking me. Maybe Ashton Kutcher was going to jump out from behind the curtains with a film crew, and we’d all laugh about it over breakfast.
A knock at the door sent a line of tension through me. Another person in the house meant the possibility of escape.
“Come in.” Sebastian yanked the blanket higher on my back. Hiding me?
The voice had me turning toward the door. The digital locking mechanism clicked, and a man strode inside. Mid-twenties, blond hair, and handsome—he wore dark butler’s attire and pushed a cart.
“Morning, Timothy.” Sebastian sat up on the edge of the bed and leaned over to click something on his nightstand. The curtains along the windows separated, allowing warm light to suffuse the room.
“Sir.” Timothy rolled the cart up to the bed, only sparing a brief glance for me.
“Help me.” I sat up and clutched the sheet to my chest. “He’s keeping me prisoner here.”
Timothy didn’t look at me. It was as if I’d never spoken.
Sebastian inspected the plates atop the cart. “Has everything in the house been arranged?”
“Yes sir.” Timothy poured two cups of coffee. He added the amount of sugar I liked, then poured my favorite creamer. “Rita knows the situation, and Gerry will abide by all the rules without issue.” His slight British accent stirred something in my mind, a memory that I couldn’t place.
“Did you hear me?” I raised my voice. “He’s keeping me against my will. Call the police!”
Sebastian seemed satisfied with the plates. “That’ll be all, Timothy.”
Timothy nodded and strode to the door. Without so much as acknowledging my existence, he entered a code and left. The locking mechanism clicked as soon as the door shut.
“That won’t work.” Sebastian peered at me, studying every move I made.
“You have them trained to keep prisoners?”
His dark hair, tousled from sleep, shone in the hues of morning that poured through the windows. “They obey me without question. I treat them well and pay them better.”
“You pay enough for them to go along with this sick game?”
His emerald eyes glittered. “It’s not a game. Come eat. You’ll feel better.”
“No way.”
“You’re hungry. I heard your stomach growl a few moments ago.”
“I don’t want anything you’re offering.”
He sighed. “You have to eat.”
“I’m not coming anywhere near you. How do I know the food isn’t poisoned?”
“Why would I go to all this trouble just to poison you?” He grabbed a piece of bacon from one plate and downed it in one bite, then grabbed a pancake from the other plate, ripped a piece off, and ate it. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in a sharp movement. “Convinced?”
So it wasn’t poisoned. That didn’t mean I wanted to have breakfast with him. “And I’m naked.”
He arched a brow. “You won’t eat because you’re naked?”
“I don’t care what you think, but I’m not eating a single thing until I’m wearing clothes.”
“That makes zero sense.”
I shrugged. “It is what it is.”
Sebastian rose, the sunlight gracing his chiseled body. I looked away as he stalked into the bathroom.
“Come in here.” The command in his voice had a hint of irritation, as if I were getting under his skin. Good.
“I can’t. I’m naked.”
“Get in here or, so help me, I will drag you.” Definitely under his skin.
A thought occurred to me, an ill-formed burst of inspiration that would shape how I would get out of this prison. If Sebastian thought I was perfect for him, that we were meant to be together, perhaps if I proved him wrong by being a disagreeable shrew, he’d change his mind. For the first time since I woke up in his bed, I felt a shred of hope.
“Fine.” His footfalls retreated toward me. “I’ll carry you.”
“I’m coming.” I stood quickly and yanked at the enormous cream duvet until I’d wrapped it all around me like a puffy wedding dress.
“I’ve already seen you naked, Camille.” He leaned against the bathroom doorframe, his hard body something that I’d only seen in scandalous messages from Veronica. Broad chest with dusky nipples, washboard abs, and the ‘V’ leading down to his semi-hard cock. I gawked for a moment, unable to help myself. It was thick, almost unbelievably so. Prying my eyes away, I stared at the space above his head.
“I saw that, Camille.” His smirk twisted my insides.
“You didn’t see anything.”
“You can deny me all you want, but I know you feel it, too.” He rubbed his chest over his heart. “For the longest time, I actually thought I was suffering from acid reflux. Every time I saw you and had to let you go, I felt it. Like a pit of lava that was burning me from the inside out. No amount of meds could stop the ache. Only one thing did—you. Just being near you. The feeling is gone and something else lives there, something that fills me up and leaves me needing more of you. Always more.”