Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
I’m officially the world’s biggest loser. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose.
“What do you feel like for dinner?” he asks to change the subject.
A muzzle.
“I don’t mind, whatever you feel like,” I whisper, embarrassed.
“I’m not sure you would want to eat what I feel like eating,” he says. His voice has that playful, naughty edge, and it brings a smile to my face.
“Behave yourself, Dr. Grayson.”
“Make me.”
“I’m going now.” I smirk.
“Goodbye, Miss Dalton.” He hangs on the line, and I smile harder.
“This time tomorrow, we will be on our way to Cancún,” I tell him.
“That’s if you survive tonight.”
I laugh out loud. “I really am going now, you deviant. Goodbye.” I hang up and feel my armpits begin to heat as an excited flush falls over me.
How is he so hot?
I get a feeling that maybe he won’t survive.
Blake
Lazarus’s eyes roam over my naked flesh as I lie on the table.
The firelight dances across his skin . . .
My cock twinges, and I hold my iPad closer . . .
Fuck me . . .
This story is hot.
“Good afternoon, Dr. Grayson,” a voice says from the door.
I fumble to quickly shut down my iPad and glance up. “Good afternoon, Judy.” I smile.
“What are you up to in your office all alone?”
Vampire porn . . . go away!
“Reading some research notes,” I lie.
“Anything interesting?”
“Not really.” I fake a smile . . . seriously, fuck off right now.
“Catch you later.”
I look left and right and open the file back up.
He steps closer, and I can see the huge erection tenting his pants. His arousal overtakes the room with an energy all its own.
The candles flicker as he approaches, and we stare at each other as the air crackles between us. Without a word, his hand slowly goes around my throat.
I swallow the lump in my throat as my cock thumps . . . fuck.
Ring, ring . . . My phone pulls me out of the moment.
“Blake Grayson,” I snap.
“Did you read it yet?” Antony whispers.
“I’m trying to now, but everybody keeps interrupting me,” I whisper.
“Seriously, it’s so fucking hot I can’t stand it.”
“Yeah . . . I’m getting the gist.” I wipe the perspiration from my brow.
“We need to find out who wrote this as a matter of urgency because I’m left on a cliffhanger.”
“What do you mean?” I frown.
“The whole story isn’t there. It finishes just when it gets good.”
I scroll down. “What?”
“There’s only six chapters, and then there’s this weird iCloud link that’s supposed to be to the rest of the story, but it goes to nowhere.”
“What kind of setup is this?” I whisper angrily. “We find this stupid flash drive with all these half-finished stories on it, and it sends us down this stupid fucking Kindle hole, and now we don’t get the end of the stories?”
“I know, bullshit.”
“Listen, get into that iCloud and find the rest of this shit.”
“I can’t. I tried already.”
“Get Henley on it.”
“He tried too.”
“Then go to a computer geek person, and get them to do it,” I whisper.
The door bursts open. “Dr. Grayson, you’re needed in room twelve,” Judy tells me.
“Coming.”
She disappears out the door. “Got to go,” I tell Antony.
“Did you get to the part where he eats her out yet?”
“What?” I whisper. “With his fangs?”
“With his nine-inch tongue.”
My eyes widen.
“Seriously . . . fuck. Ing. Hell.”
“Get that fucking link open.” I hang up, then stand up to get back to work.
Jeez . . . I need a cold shower.
Rebecca
I sit on the couch and peer through the curtains as I act casual, and by acting casual I mean I’m dressed in normal everyday house clothes as if this is just a normal day and Blake is coming over for a normal dinner. I’m not mentioning the hours-long primping session I had upstairs all afternoon. My hair is done, my makeup natural; I’m shaved and waxed to within an inch of my life, and my vacation spray tan has been well and truly activated.
Suitcase is packed, and my ducks are all in a row . . . at least, I hope they are.
I’m ready . . . well, as ready as I’ll ever be.
I see headlights pull into the cul-de-sac, and my heart skips a beat. Blake’s home.
My heart begins to thump in my chest . . . Blake’s home.
Ahhhhhh.
Fucking Blake’s home.
Suddenly I’m freaking out. I jump from the couch and run upstairs and look at myself in the mirror. “This is fine,” I tell the nervous girl in the mirror. “You’ve got this.” I turn and look at my behind in the mirror. “But do you really?” I reply to her.
I hear the front door open. “Hey,” he calls from downstairs as he walks in.
Shit.
How do I get myself into these situations?
“I got Italian,” he calls, and I hear him walk into the kitchen as he begins to unpack the food. “Where are you?”