Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 99285 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99285 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
“I’m losing my damn mind,” I muttered and shook my head as I grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water. I drank deeply from the glass, the cold water doing nothing to quench my thirst. Because it’s not water I want.
I poured the rest of the water out in the sink and set the glass aside. Just as I was about to turn and head to bed, a large, dark shape moved across the yard in between the trees. I froze and leaned forward, narrowing my eyes.
It was probably nothing at all, just shadows from the night, an animal moving in the forest. I straightened, but something felt off, my body tight as if instinct told me it wasn’t nothing.
“I really am losing my mind.” I turned away from the window and shut off the kitchen light, making my way into my bedroom. Although I was exhausted, I knew sleep wasn’t going to come.
I was too wired after the kiss, my body alight with unrestrained pleasure. I felt achy and heavy between my thighs, still drenched. No matter how many times I changed my panties, they were still uncomfortably damp.
It was when I made it into my bedroom that I heard something coming from the back of the house. I was midstep when I froze, my hand tightening around the edge of my door as I looked over my shoulder and into the darkened hallway to where the steps led downstairs.
I could feel and hear my heart starting to beat a faster tempo, my throat feeling a little tight, my mouth drying as the flight-or-fight instinct rose within me. I didn’t move, listening, feeling like my hearing was amplified, getting drowned out at the same time by my pulse.
When I heard nothing else, I tried to tell myself it was an overactive imagination. But seeing the shadow outside, coupled with the feelings I was still fighting after all the things I’d done at the nightclub, it was understandable that I was shaken up.
So even though it was probably nothing, I still found myself stepping into my bedroom, going into my closet, and grabbing a baseball bat I had resting against the wall. I kept it pressed to my chest as I turned and stared at my partially opened door, not stupid enough to head out there and investigate. Hell, I’d seen enough damn horror movies to know when someone did that, they were the first to get killed.
And as the seconds turned into minutes, I felt that tension start to leave me, feeling even more like a fool for reacting this way. It was right when I loosened my hold of the bat against my chest that I heard glass breaking, followed by the heavy thump of feet hitting the floor.
And then I heard footsteps, faint and distant at first, but with each passing second they came clearer and closer. I was rushing toward my door, slamming it shut, and turning the lock in place before I could think about it. I took several steps back and clutched the bat tightly to my chest again, keeping it up and getting ready to swing.
I reached out and turned my bedroom light off, plunging the room into darkness. All I could hear was my heart racing in my ears and my rapid breathing filling the interior of the bedroom. I stared at that closed door, listening, trying to hear who was coming closer.
And once that initial shock wore off, I realized I needed to get to my phone. I needed to call for help. I was rushing toward my bedside table where my cell was charging and ripping the cord out just as something heavy and hard slammed against the door. I screamed out, my hand fumbling with the cell, the phone falling from my grasp and bouncing off the bedside table before hitting the hardwood floor.
I scrambled to grab the cell again, and when it was in hand, I quickly punched in 9-1-1. With the phone pressed to my ear, I stared in horror at my bedroom door that was being splintered in two.
“9-1-1. What’s your emergency?”
I opened my mouth to let out a rush of words, but my mind was jumbled, my tongue thick as I watched in horror when my bedroom door was all but broken in half from the big body that kept slamming itself against it.
“9-1-1, please state your emergency.”
“Oh God, someone broke into my house. They’re trying to get into my bedroom.” Not trying. They were in my room now.
I could hear the operator talking, but it sounded like I was underwater, everything muffled and unintelligible. The person, who was clearly a male, judging by what I could see of his size through the broken wood, reached in the shattered opening with a black-clad arm and a glove covering his hand as he searched for the lock.