Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“I think that you can.” He moves away, heading over towards my windows. “I looked at your portfolio, and not only the one you have online. I checked your work from school, too.”
“You did?” I ask, surprised. “How?”
“Money opens doors.” He stares out at the desert. “Your work is good, Hellie. Very, very good. I like art, love it actually, and I know what I’m talking about. You’re talented. Your technique is phenomenal.”
I want to be pissed that he spied on me, but I’m kind of flattered. “Thanks. I guess. Also, screw you.”
A ghostly smile crosses his handsome mouth. “Paint for me. Otherwise, my protection will run out, and Frost and Gallo will torture you for their own amusement and as a way to send a message to this town. I’m your only shot at getting through this alive.”
“Says my kidnapper. Is this the part where you Stockholm Syndrome me into feeling grateful you stole me?”
He shrugs, turning back. “That would be nice.”
“No, thanks. I’m not painting for you. I’m not digging myself into a hole like my father did. And I’m sure as hell not grateful for this fucking beautiful prison you’ve got me in.”
“I hope you change your mind. I was just meeting with my associates, and I told them you were on board. Right after Gallo gave a very vivid description of how he wants to hurt you.”
I flinch, looking down at the floor. “I don’t believe you.”
“I have no reason to lie. I’ll give you another day to reconsider.” He walks towards me, coming over like a panther. Oozing confidence and sexual energy. His muscles are bulging, his lips slightly pursed, and I want to dig my fingers into his back. Fuck, what is wrong with me? Get a grip!
“I won’t change my mind.”
“You will, or I’ll have to get creative.” He stops inches away and reaches forward. I shy back, scared of his touch but also craving it like a skydiver begging for the ground. Instead, he continues past me and picks up that black dress. “Maybe I’ll take away everything but this. I wouldn’t mind you parading around in only this outfit, though it would be very distracting.”
“I’d rather be naked than let you dress me up.”
His eyes flash to mine. Hunger lurks behind that gaze and it scares me, because I feel that same need reflected in my core.
“Don’t tempt me, little devil girl.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Why? You’re my devil girl, causing me so much trouble while I’m trying to keep you alive. Paint for me, Hellie.”
“Or you’ll strip me down and make me be naked? What happened to not treating me like a whore?”
His lips curl. “My whore. Nobody else will ever touch you.”
“But you will?” My spine shivers with terror and a strange undertone of desire. Curious need.
“I don’t need to fuck an unwilling woman. If you’re going to be my whore, you’ll do it because you want to.” His hand comes up and he touches my chin. I suck in a breath, heat racing into my guts. This guy’s got the kind of confidence that pisses me off, but he’s also got the good looks and charm to back it up, the bastard.
“That’ll never be me. And I won’t paint for you. Just let me go.”
“I can’t.” He leans closer. I think he’s going to kiss me, or press his mouth to my neck, or rip out my throat with his teeth. He could break me, crack my spine, snap my neck. He’s a beast, and I’m attracted to the monster in ways I never dreamed possible. “It would be such a waste of a beautiful woman to let my associates have their way. Paint for me, Hellie.” His hand wraps around my throat, but he doesn’t squeeze. I release a terrified whimper as my body pumps adrenaline into my veins. Unadulterated lust slams into my core, mingled with fear. “Paint for me, and I will make it worth your while. It just might save your life.”
He releases my throat and turns. I gasp, even though he hadn’t been choking me. He walks to the door, pauses only for a moment to look back at me, his expression unreadable. The mask is back on, his emotions gone.
But for a moment, when his hand was on my neck and his mouth was inches from mine, I saw something in his eyes.
A man beneath the creature. A man filled with lust, just like me.
What the fuck am I doing?
Erick leaves, and I collapse back onto the bed surrounded by expensive designer clothes, all of it worth more money than I’ll ever make in my entire life, but all of it worthless.
Chapter 8
Erick
I dream of chasing her through the desert. Hellie runs and runs, gasping for breath, until she stumbles. My teeth are fangs, my hands are claws. I hold her down and spread her legs, and she’s screaming as I tear off her clothes, and she’s begging me to keep going as I fuck her.