Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
I nod, understanding her worries, and if she were anyone else, the first thing I would do is go straight to my team, but the idea of aggravating this asshole only to have him escalate even more doesn’t sit well with me.
“Look, leave it with me. I’ll swing by the morgue tomorrow and check it out. Gray should have some leads by now. I’ll see what they know. In the meantime, I think you should stay here tonight. You’re in no condition to drive.”
She shakes her head, and I see the refusal on her lips. “I—”
“Don’t even think about arguing with me, Harper-Rayn. You’re staying in my spare room whether you like it or not.”
She cringes. “Are you sure that’s really a good idea?” she questions, guilt flashing in her eyes, and suddenly I don’t think it’s her current situation she’s referring to. It’s the intense sexual tension she feels between us. The same one I’ve felt since the moment I met her. And she’s fucking right. Having her sleeping under my roof isn’t a good idea, but I’m not about to turn her away.
“What seems to be the problem, Morticia?” I ask her, my lips quirking into a wicked grin. “Don’t think you can keep your greedy little hands off me?”
Harper sputters in shock, her eyes widening with surprise. “I, ummm . . .” She scoffs, clearly not having expected me to voice the one thing we’ve both shamelessly ignored for years. “I’m glad you think so highly of yourself, but that’s not going to be a problem for me.”
“Right,” I say, stepping past her. I make my way toward the hallway while calling over my shoulder. “I’ll grab you some dry clothes. There’s food in the fridge if you’re hungry.”
“Wait. Knight,” she rushes out, hurrying a few steps after me.
I pause at the opening of the hallway and turn back, meeting her haunted stare through the darkened room. “What’s up?”
“When you speak to Detective Gray tomorrow . . .” She cringes and lets her words fall away.
“Don’t worry,” I murmur, eating up her innocence and knowing that with one touch I could shatter that innocence like glass. “I’ll keep your name out of it.”
Harper nods, and her eyes fill with gratitude. “Thank you.”
“Get some sleep,” I tell her.
And with that, I make my way down the hallway, wondering how the fuck I’m supposed to go all night without putting my hands on this girl and fucking her out of my system. One thing’s for sure, it’s going to be the hardest night of my life.
9
HARPER-RAYN
What the hell was I thinking coming here? I should never have called him, but what choice did I have? What happened last night . . . I can’t just allow this shit to go on. I need to get to the bottom of it, and having someone like Knight Slater in my corner could only be good.
I hope.
I’ve spent all night sleeping in his spare bedroom. Scrap that. I didn’t actually sleep. I tried, but the very knowledge that he was in the next room kept me wide awake. I bet he couldn’t sleep either. His body was probably burning the same way mine was, fire pulsing through his veins, daring him to come to my door and take what he’s always wanted.
My body was buzzing all night, and the need to go in there and take everything I’ve craved for so long was killing me. I could smell him all around me, my skin burning from the feel of his shirt wrapped around my body. It was too much. Just the thought of what he could do to me . . . fuck.
I’m in trouble, and I don’t mean the kind of trouble I could find myself in with my new stalker. I mean the definitely going to fuck my step-uncle and see a whole new version of family drama kind of trouble.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Step-uncle. Step-uncle. Step-uncle. He’s my fucking step-uncle!
Why is that so hard to get through my head? Probably because the man is an Adonis, and even in the middle of my freak out last night, he had the audacity to ask me if I have the ability to keep my greedy hands to myself.
Holy hell.
There’s no doubt about it. Knight Slater knows exactly what he does to me. The question is, does he ever plan on doing anything about it?
It’s a little after nine in the morning, and I’ve spent way too many hours tossing and turning in Knight’s spare bed. Though I think it’s clear that I would have preferred to spend my night tossing and turning for a whole other reason, but that’s neither here nor there, and if anybody asks, I would deny it with everything I have.
I need to get out of here, preferably before Knight gets up. I’d love to avoid facing him over an awkward breakfast.