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)
Is it even possible to work someone out of your system when you haven’t even had nearly enough of them yet? But despite how he thinks I’m about to become his little needy whore, I can’t. We have to force a divide between us. I have to stop running to him every time something fucked up happens at work. I can’t rely on somebody I can’t have because, sooner or later, I’ll become attached, and when that happens, I’m up shit creek without a paddle.
The music makes me feel alive, and the more I drink, the more I forget about the bullshit of this week and just allow myself to have fun. My body moves, and as the random men dancing with me take my waist and put their hands all over me, I can’t help but picture the way Knight would dance, the way he would touch me, the way his hips would grind against my ass. And damn it, I’ve never needed anything more.
As I fantasize about the one man I shouldn’t want, the music shifts, and the alcohol starts to make my brain feel fuzzy. A strange shiver sails down my spine, making the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.
My body goes stiff, and I whip around, my eyes wide as I search the faces of the people around me.
He’s here.
My stalker is here, and his eyes are locked on me.
Fear rockets through my chest, and as my body comes to a stop, one of the men leans in with his hand still on my waist. “You good, baby? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost?”
I swallow over the fear, trying to remember the rules of his deadly game of hide and seek as I search for him in the crowded club, but it’s useless. I don’t know who I’m looking for, don’t know the lines of his face, the color of his eyes. I’m looking for a needle in a haystack.
My heart hammers. What the hell does he want with me?
If I scream, I fail. If I run, I die.
He’s here to play.
The man’s hand tightens on my waist, and I realize he’s still waiting for a response, and I plaster on a fake smile. “Oh, yeah . . . I . . . just need another drink.”
He nods, and a stupid grin lifts the corner of his lips, probably thinking he’ll have a better chance at fucking me in the men’s room if I’m wasted. “Stay here. Dance. I’ll get it.”
I smile and nod, and as his hands drop away from my body, I make a mental note not to drink a sip of whatever fresh bullshit he brings me. I’m usually pretty trusting overall, but not when it comes to strange men in a club offering me drinks.
His friend immediately moves in, stepping behind me and taking my waist as he rolls his hips against my ass. His hands skim across my waist, and I’ve got to give it to him, he knows what he’s doing. For just a fleeting second, he almost makes me forget about the shivers down my spine.
My body loosens up again, and as I dance with this man, my gaze continues scanning the club. I search every single face, bypassing Izzy’s as she locks lips with the perfect stranger she’s dancing with, and despite my current predicament, I take a moment to cheer her on. She works so hard. She deserves a night to let her hair down and get crazy. I just hope this guy can keep up with her. She has high standards for the men she takes to bed, or in this case, the men she screws on the end of the bar.
Something pulls my gaze across the room, and as the bodies move and sway to the music, a dark figure steps out of the shadows. The familiar gothic skull mask stares back at me, and I falter, my body falling back against the man’s chest behind me. He takes it as an invitation to hold me tighter, his cock pressed up against my ass.
Not good.
I can’t tear my eyes off him as his penetrating stare leaves me breathless, yet as my body moves to the music, I can’t help but feel as though he enjoys it. If I play his game, give him what he wants, then what do I have to lose? It’s better than the alternative of running for my life and ending up in a body bag, waiting for Dr. McKullan to perform my autopsy.
I have to play his game. I have no other choice. And with that, I decide to put on a show.
I use the man behind me as my prop, moving my body against his as I keep my eyes locked on the captivating stranger across the room. I tease him with my moves, arching my back and giving him exactly what he wants, making sure he gets the perfect view of my body.