Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 55383 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55383 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
He grumbled again, low in his chest, almost as if he owned her, “Want to fuck you.”
Although her faculties were barely working, something about his blunt, fevered words was setting off alarm bells, and her anger came roaring back to save her as her muscles stiffened. “Well, you can’t fuck me, asshole.”
Ignoring her words, his frown intensified even as he gripped her mound, rubbing it, massaging it with a firm grasp. Maria fought the pull to her senses and growled low in warning, “Let go, Garrett.”
“No fucking way.” With a quick motion, he slid his hand from outside her shorts to the hem and then he pushed aside the crotch of both her shorts and panties.
She sucked in a breath at the feel of his touch on her most intimate flesh. Pushing against the hands that held her, she began squirming against him, trying to get free. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
The only answer she received was a low rumble in his chest as his finger slid through her wet folds. Wet . . . damn it, Maria. “Garrett. Don’t.”
She sucked in a breath as he circled her damp opening.
“Ask me nicely,” he hissed in tones of steel.
“I’m going to sue you nicely if you don’t let me go!”
His finger stayed exactly where it was while they stared at each other. One second, two seconds—
She was just about to lose it and push against him when he withdrew from her clothing only to slide his hand up to her chin and lift it. “I’m going to give you fair warning, baby. That shit you pulled on me today? Don’t turn it on for me if you don’t want me to react, understand?”
“I didn’t do anything,” she denied hotly, knowing she was lying.
“Oh, I think you did,” he answered, gripping her harder.
“Bullshit,” she spit out.
“Bullshit,” he retaliated.
“Fuck you,” she hissed, so angry she thought her head might explode.
It was on the tip of his tongue; she could see it was on the tip of his tongue. If he’d been mad before, his anger had just etched up another notch. His eyes became pointed and his stance widened just that much . . . preparing himself to dominate her where she stood. His hand bit into the flesh of her chin while the fingers he held her imprisoned with turned into bands of iron. She felt it coming . . . she reared back as far as she could go but it didn’t help.
His expected verbal retaliation came in the form of an erotic, physical assault on her body and senses. His mouth fell back to hers and he began kissing her like a madman. He stroked inside her mouth, taking what she was refusing to give. He punished her with his tongue, he retaliated with his lips and his teeth, his kiss animalistic. Lifting his head, his eyes almost hypnotized her with their intensity. “I don’t care for smart-ass little girls like you.”
“Fuck y—”
Her insult was silenced by his lips on hers. He kissed her as if she were his. He kissed her as if he had every right to proceed any damn way he pleased. And damn him, even his anger was addictive. His scent was masculine, musky, crisp and infinitely appealing to her. And if she allowed it, it could do things to her that she wouldn’t be able to control.
Her pulse went spinning. It was damn hard to stay coherent when her body wanted nothing more than to let go. But she couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t. There was something about Garrett Rule, something that had told her from the very beginning that he wasn’t safe. If she slept with him, he’d either toss her aside or . . . or he’d take her over completely, and she’d be pulled along for the ride with him in full control, whether she wanted to be or not.
And that wasn’t going to happen. She could probably deal with being tossed aside, but there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that she was going to stand still and let him run roughshod all over her. Wasn’t. Going. To. Happen.
With every ounce of physical and mental strength she possessed, she ripped her mouth from his and turned her head away from him. Her eyes flew open and she stared at the wall, listening to her heartbeat in her ears while she was vaguely aware of his own fight for oxygen. She could tell he was staring at her profile, and she closed her eyes in denial.
This couldn’t be happening. She’d fought for too hard and for too long for her place in this hotel; she wasn’t going to give it all up just because this man waltzed inside, bought the place, and then tried to not only take it over, but her as well.