Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
“Everything I’ve done is to keep you both safe,” he says gruffly. “I don’t want anything to happen to you… to either of you.”
“Because you had this sudden change of heart. After… how long working in this business?”
“Twenty years,” he says. “No. More. I started when I was nineteen. I’m forty-one now.”
Twenty years older than me.
As if the silver in his hair wasn’t reminder enough that he’s so much more experienced than me.
“And in all that time, killing men, women, children—”
“What?” he roars, looming over me, his breathing husky as he glares down. “Is that really what you think? That I’d kill children and women? Never, Violet. I’ve always had a rule. I’d never hurt a woman or a child.”
This probably shouldn’t make me feel any better. I should probably still hate him—not that I do hate him, but I should be able to summon some distaste. Instead, that ball of want expands inside of me.
“Just men, then?” I say.
“Men involved in mafia business.”
“Men like my dad?” I snap.
“No. Mostly men who’ve done some really sick shit. Or men who are already involved in the life, know the risks, and understand the rules. But… you don’t need to hear any of this.”
“I’m not some delicate flower,” I tell him. “I can handle it.”
He steps even closer, his body brushing against mine. His hands rise to squeeze onto my arms. I gasp at his touch, the firmness of it, the heat of his palms blazing through my hoodie against my skin.
He squeezes me firmer, leaning down. His face is inches from mine. When he breathes, warm husky air moves over me. Something deep within yells at me to lean forward, to kiss him. His touch electrifies me, buzzing all over my body.
What the heck am I doing falling for a killer? Ha, falling? I’ve already plummeted. Hard.
“You are delicate,” he growls. “You shouldn’t have to worry about stuff like this. You shouldn’t have to worry about anything.”
“Violet?” Dad calls from the hallway.
Luke lets me go and steps back, leaving me with the aftershock of his touch. The sizzling moving up and down my arms, the pulsing in my chest, the tingling between my legs.
Again, the urge to run touches me. To get away from this feeling. To flee the knowledge I can’t give this man what he wants.
How is it possible to long for my old life while also wanting a new one with Luke? How does that make sense?
Dad appears at the door. “Breakfast?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Luke
We change cars at the safe house, and then I drive us out of the forest, trying not to look in the rearview at Violet.
I can’t stop thinking about how she felt in my arms when I squeezed onto her and leaned close. If Andrew hadn’t interrupted us, I know I would have kissed her, quieted her concerns about my business, and fiercely pushed my lips against hers.
The memory of my fantasy is still pumping through me—the thought of her on her back, legs open, offering every part of herself to me.
“Shall we play the license plate game?” Andrew asks, smiling over at his daughter.
The conversation with Violet about my business has cracked open doors inside of me.
This might be why a small smile passes across my face when I see the connection they share… when I see the love he has for her.
It draws me into the past, but I can’t let myself go there.
Life was so much easier before, when I didn’t have to doubt, didn’t have to think beyond the next mission. All I had to consider was, Where is the target? What’s the layout? How should I kill them? Now, Violet’s got me thinking about the future and pondering the past.
“I’m not in the mood,” Violet says, folding her arms and staring out the window.
The savage in me is howling. Pretty much nonstop, but it gets more serious when I see her breasts shift in the hoodie, her arms propped beneath them. She pouts, inviting dreams into my mind, dreams of kissing her or finding other uses for her lips.
My manhood surges, pushes against my pants.
I focus on the road… or try to. It’s difficult with my woman beckoning to me every single moment, even if she doesn’t realize she’s doing it.
“Luke?” Andrew says.
I laugh darkly, nodding to the empty road. “If I have things my way, we won’t be seeing any cars.”
“I, Spy, then?” Andrew says.
“You’re persistent, aren’t you?”
“Bored, is what I am,” Andrew replies.
I shrug. “All right, then…”
So that’s what we do as I drive through the forest, sticking to the byroads, staying as far away from civilization as I can while taking the route to the next safe house.
I pull up slowly to the gas station. Andrew wants to use the bathroom, and I need gas.
I grip the steering wheel and look at them in the rearview mirror. “I want you both to know what happens if you run and the mob finds you instead of me. They’ll torture you both for information about where I am. If they get you together, they’ll force you to watch the other one being tortured. If you go to the police, there’s a large chance the mafia will hear about it.”