Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
After the song was finished, I shifted to “Cure” by Tube and Berger, blaring it through the speakers and burning its way into my body. Music always had the power to speak for me. When words failed, the music spoke volumes.
I leaned back, right up on the loud bass. It vibrated into my body, and I shut my eyes, allowing the music to take over. Fully aware that he was still watching, I swayed my hips and made love to the music. My hands slowly worked their way up my waist to my head, running my fingers seductively through my hair as I lifted it off my glistening neck and rocked my hips back and forth.
There was a strong shift in the air.
The space.
The energy all around me in the DJ booth.
My breathing tethered…
My pulse accelerated…
My heart started pounding out of my chest.
When almost instantly, I was engulfed in his familiar, masculine scent, lingering with bourbon and cigarettes. I backed up into him. I felt his lips slightly glide along the crook of my neck, and I gradually tilted my head.
“You’re playin’ with fire,” he rasped into my ear.
I moved my hips against his, and he wrapped his muscular arm around my waist, tugging me closer to him. Close enough to where there was nothing between us, only the friction of my sinful movements.
The smell of his cologne was intoxicating, luring me in with the beat of the sensual tune still blaring around us.
Slowly, I turned around to look up at him through the slits of my eyes. “Is that a threat?”
“Why? You want it to be?”
“I thought you don’t put your hands on women?”
“Darlin’, you know damn well that raisin’ my hand at you and makin’ you come on it are two different things.”
“It always comes down to sex, doesn’t it? Funny how that works.”
“Says the woman who’s been grinding on my cock.”
“I was just dancing.”
“Is that right?”
“Mm-hmm…” When I placed my hands on his chest, he didn’t think twice about gripping my ass and setting me beside the turntables to step between my legs.
I hitched a breath.
Within seconds, he swept my cheekbone with the back of his fingers. “This is healing nicely, yeah? You ever going to tell me whose handiwork this is?”
“If I did, what are you going to do?”
We never once stopped looking deep into each other’s eyes. He peered down at me while I looked up at him through my long, thick lashes.
“You know what I’d do. It’s why you haven’t told me who it is.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know a damn thing about you. What I do know is it’s still none of your fucking business. I’ve been taking care of myself for a very long time. I don’t need you to be my savior, Jameson. I don’t need you to be anything.”
“What do you need, then?”
“What I need is to go back to work, so if you’re done eye-fucking the shit out of me, I’d like to get on with my night.”
“You want me to be done, then answer my question.”
I argued, “I did. It’s just not the answer you want to hear. But guess what? We don’t always get what we want.”
“How about instead of givin’ me shit, you give me some credit, ya feel me?”
“Unfortunately.” I ground against his hard cock. “I do.”
“What do you expect when your pussy is right there?”
“I thought you were a gentleman.”
“You don’t like gentlemen.”
“Is that right?” I mocked, sitting up higher and leaning into his lips. His mouth was now inches away from mine. “And what kind of man do I like?”
He didn’t move. “You truly are a thing of beauty, and I pride myself on beautiful things.”
“You mean by kidnapping those beautiful things and selling them off to the highest bidder?” I challenged, cocking my head to the side.
“I’d never sell you.” His fingers curled into my inner thigh as his thumb grazed my knee. “You’re worth keepin’.”
“Do I look like a woman who wants to be owned?”
“I’m just tryin’ to protect you, sweetheart.”
“Protect me from what? Men exactly like you? Trust me, Jameson, you’re not the first, nor will you be the last man to try to protect me. Those men… are the reason I started taking care of myself in the first place.”
“I’m the last man you’d need protection from.”
“I’d say you were the first.”
I could take brutal, harsh verbal abuse. It was mild compared to the emotional assault his eyes rained down on me, like a knife carving into my already wounded mind. My heart immediately tightened as if he was physically holding it in the palm of his hand.
Mostly because I was curious as to what could happen, and anxious of what couldn’t...
Where are these feelings coming from?
He narrowed his brazen stare at me and fucking grinned, sensing my conflicting emotions.