Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 95311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Once her body stilled, Elliott's face buried in her neck as he pulled her body upward on the bed toward the pillows before he lay down, half on top of her, his face resting on her breast and his leg between hers.
Her arm went around him, holding him across his shoulders as she rested her chin on his soft hair.
"See," his voice said, soft, tired, "wasn't that better than not doing it?"
Hannah half-laughed, half-snorted. She could get used to outside-of-work Elliott. There was less rigidity, more humor. His edges softened and she could see the person behind all the business.
His body went lax a few minutes later, asleep. Hannah expected to pass out quickly too, like she had the last two times she had been with him. But she stayed awake instead, oddly exhilarated. She kept still, feeling Elliott's warm breath on her chest, his weight pressing her into the soft mattress.
This was something she hadn't realized she missed- intimacy, closeness with another person. It sank into her skin, the comfort, the happiness. The fear that she was going to get used to it and lose it.
Because, if she was honest with herself, she knew this wasn't going to last. There were danger signs everywhere and she was pretending to ignore them. Elliott was a famous ladies man. He was never known to spend more than a few weeks with the same woman. He certainly wasn't the type to settle down. And on that subject, there was Dan. Sure it was an unhappy sham of a marriage, but she was a factor for Hannah. Then there was their professional relationship.
She didn't want to risk her career, though a part of her was sure that Elliott would never fire her unless she screwed up on the job.
And, as much as she hated it, she was worried about the fallout. The absolutely inevitable fallout. Would she be prepared for it? Would it take her by surprise and send her into a downward spiral of sadness and anger? Was she going to fall apart when it ended?
Because it was going to end.
Lastly, she cringed, not wanting to think about it, the crazy stalker person. She never had worked out a plan for that, she realized with a start. The wisest thing would be to give up or sublet her apartment- move somewhere safer with cameras or a doorman. She would get a security system. She would alternate her routes. Whatever it took. Maybe if she actually put some effort into dealing with the situation instead of pretending to ignore it, she could get on top of it and it would stop.
Shivering, she stretched her foot toward the end of the bed where the comforter had gotten bunched up. Grabbing the edge of it between her toes, she pulled it up to her hands and spread it across the two of them, trying not to wake Elliott. But as soon as the cool fabric touched his skin, he shifted his body off of hers and moved to lay on his back with one arm arched over his head on the pillow.
Hannah took a deep breath, not having noticed her shallow breathing due to his weight. She pulled herself into a seated position, her back against the headboard and looking down at Elliott. She liked being able to look at him like that, without him noticing her inspection.
There was a scar at the base of his neck, the skin slightly raised and white. It was as long as her pointer finger and she couldn't help but wonder how he had gotten it. She reached down, lightly rubbing her fingertip over the skin finding it strangely smooth and cool.
The phone rang, making her jump back like a guilty teenager.
It was a loud, antique phone, the ring loud and shrill and she reached for it automatically so it wouldn't wake up Elliott.
"Hello," she whispered into the receiver.
There was a silence on the other end and she almost hung up. Then the voice spoke, an inhuman voice. The kind of voice you hear on a news interview when the witness wants to remain anonymous, dark and robotic. Everyone's voice was masculine and deep.
"Whore," the voice hissed.
"Who is this?" she hissed back, looking at Elliott to make sure he was still asleep. He hadn't stirred.
"You should be more worried about your conduct, slut. Stay in your small town. Quit your job. Never see him again. Or you will regret it."
Click. Dial tone.
Hannah sat there, holding the receiver to her ear for a second, queasiness swirling in her stomach, making her genuinely wonder if she were going to be sick.
"Who was that?" Elliott's voice asked, groggy.
Hannah jumped, her heart thudding quickly. She placed the receiver back into the cradle before turning to Elliott, biding time.
His eyes were small and puffy like he was struggling to stay awake.