Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 191421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 957(@200wpm)___ 766(@250wpm)___ 638(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 191421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 957(@200wpm)___ 766(@250wpm)___ 638(@300wpm)
I gasp.
I have to because he accompanies his words with a look.
A very long and lingering look at my… tits.
That are well covered by the hoodie tonight but the way he stares at them makes me feel exposed again. The way he then goes on to stare at the rest of my body, stopping in places like my jean-covered thighs and calves, makes me think that he’s imagining me in a dress right now.
He’s imagining me in… nothing.
And I have this great urge to cover myself from him.
From his intense, pretty, obscene eyes.
“You’re so…” I take a deep breath. “You did not just say that. You did not just talk about my…”
My outrage makes him smirk.
And the hateful and the most obnoxious guy that he is, he deliberately stares down at my chest for a second or two before shrugging. “Well what can I say, you’ve got nice tits.”
“Stop,” I command, my chest heaving, my tits feeling all heavy and strange from his lingering glances. “Don’t say that word.”
His smirk turns into a low chuckle.
And I don’t know how it’s possible but it’s even worse than his shameless stare.
Because his chuckle is downright dirty.
“I thought you liked words,” he drawls.
“I’m —”
“Or maybe you’re looking for another synonym here?”
“I’m not —”
“How about knockers? Jugs, fun bags, hooters. Headlights.”
“Oh my God.”
“Oh my Reign is the phrase you’re looking for, I think.”
I thought I was afraid of going to jail but I don’t think I am.
I think it’s going to be totally worth it if I get to kill him first.
“I’m your best friend’s girlfriend, you…” God, I can’t find words. “Vulgar psycho. So you need to stop, okay? Just stop.”
“Ex though, yeah?”
“Just stop,” I whisper.
Finally, it looks like I’ve made some progress.
Because his amusement vanishes and he says, “Then don’t piss me off and do what I tell you to do.”
And then I just explode.
I explode at him for being so arrogant and domineering.
So hateful that it makes me sick.
“First,” I begin, my hands fisting, “no matter how much you’d like to believe it, I’m not your servant girl. Never was and never will be. I don’t take orders from you. You don’t tell me what to do. Second, don’t come near me. Stop advancing on me like a freaking predator or something. Third, I’m here to talk to Lucas and I’m not leaving until I do so.” Then, “Oh, and even when I do leave, I’m not leaving with you. So back off.”
Good.
That was good.
I’m very proud of myself.
Or I would be. If he’d listened to anything that I just said and obeyed.
As it is, he doesn’t.
He still advances on me.
In fact, he takes a very long and lunging step — at least, it looks like that to me — toward me, making me flinch. Especially when the blunt toes of his boots knock against my sneakers.
Then, dipping down, pinning his red-flecked gaze on me, he says, “First, with me is the only way you’ll leave. And you will leave, I’ll make sure of that. Second, you’re not talking to Lucas when he’s like this, drunk and stoned out of his mind. When he doesn’t know up from down. Third, the way I see it, you’ve always been my servant girl and the sooner you accept that fact, the better, because then we won’t have to go through this whole thing where you pretend to have all the power and I have to remind you that you have less than none. And lastly, isn’t predator a synonym for criminal?”
My heart skips a beat then.
Followed by several other beats as he continues, “Not exactly but kinda though, yeah? It fits. Right there with a lawbreaker, a delinquent and a felon.” Then, dipping his chin further and lowering his voice even more, “A bandit who rides a horse and kidnaps girls in the middle of the night. Although I have to say that I like my girls bold. I like ’em feisty and wild. Girls who don’t run away from danger but toward it. So you with your bubblegum pink and good girl routine have got nothing to worry about. You bore me more than the books that you like to read and you’re stronger than the sleeping pills that I have to take to put myself to sleep these days. Chasing after you, let alone kidnapping you, is the last thing on my agenda tonight.”
I want to cover my ears again.
Reach into my brain and take out that piece containing all the memories.
Of him.
My ex-boyfriend’s asshole best friend.
But I can’t.
All I can do is stand here and look up into his eyes.
His flashing and glowing eyes.
Surrounded by the thickest eyelashes I’ve ever seen.
All I can do is breathe lungfuls of his scent, summery and sunshiny. Exactly like I remember.
And that’s the thing, isn’t it?