Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“It’s a Volkswagen ID.4,” she murmurs. “Electric.”
“Huh.” I’ve heard about electric vehicles, but this is the first one I’ve seen up close. I glance at her, once again drawn by the violet hue of her eyes. Would they change to a deeper blue in the throes of orgasm? Is she a screamer? Does she like to be tied up? Held down? “You must be doing all right. These are expensive, correct?”
She shakes her head, and little apple earrings dangle from her delicate ears. “No. The government forced car manufacturers to create a bunch of electric vehicles, even though we don’t have the electrical grid for it, so you can get a great deal on a lease.” She pats the car as if she’s proud of the beauty, and I note her slim fingers. I’d bet my entire fortune her skin is soft. “In fact, with a four-year lease, the cost is minimal.”
So the girl is careful with money. This makes sense. Her clothes are fitting and elegant, but definitely not high-end. I don’t know anything about her, and this sense of curiosity is new. I figure the better I know her, the easier it’ll be to get her into bed. Or bent over a table. Right now, I don’t very much care where. I move toward the driver’s side door.
She holds up a hand, as if that will stop me. “You’re not driving my car.”
“If there’s a car, I drive it,” I say, curious how she’ll react.
“No. You don’t even have a license right now. Do you honestly want to get a ticket when you’re barely on probation?”
That’s a point, it’s a good one, plus it’s her car. I weigh my options and then decide to give in this time. My license probably is expired. “Fine.”
I walk around and enter the passenger side. The leather interior smells like expensive indulgence. I look up through the sunroof. The sky is so wide and blue, and I take a moment just to breathe as I roll down the window. The sense of freedom has yet to hit me, but the familiar anger boiling in my gut keeps me stable.
She settles herself in the driver’s side and fastens her seatbelt before turning those unreal eyes on me. “Seatbelt.”
“No.”
“It’s the law.” She presses her lips together, making me want to kiss her and force them open. What does she taste like? Sunshine and heaven? Strawberries that match her lips? “Put on your seatbelt,” she repeats, reminding me of my tenth-grade English teacher. I wanted to fuck her, too. The attraction had been mutual, and I learned quite a bit from Ms. Lemon. “Now, please,” Rosalie says briskly.
I’ve been shackled enough in this life. “I said no.”
“Fine.” She starts the vehicle. “If we get in a car accident and you go through the windshield, it’s your own damn fault.”
The woman sounds like she might hit a concrete barrier just to prove her point. Amusement ticks through me, shocking me. I haven’t smiled genuinely in seven years—maybe longer. Now isn’t the time to start. “Fair enough.”
She pulls out on to the quiet road. “So where to?”
That’s the question, isn’t it? I don’t have anywhere to go.
FOUR
Rosalie
Alexei overpowers the car in a way I should have expected and yet failed to do so. The panther tattoo on his neck is apropos. He stretches like that deadly predator, his legs long, his gaze on the world outside of the vehicle.
We drive for miles until he frowns and kicks off the brown shoes.
I wince. “I’m sorry. I had to guess at the size.”
“You were about three inches off,” he says, not looking my way or sounding concerned.
I borrowed them from one of the tenants in my Victorian house, and Wally has the biggest feet. “I do need to return them to a friend.”
Alexei turns suddenly, his gaze piercing. “You took these from another man?”
I clear my throat as a wave of tension rolls across the vehicle. “I didn’t borrow them from a woman.”
He doesn’t smile. “Whose shoes are these, Peaflower?” His tone is hard and demanding with an unnerving edge.
The hair rises on the back of my neck, and I watch him carefully from the corner of my eye. We’re now flanked on both sides by a dark forest with sturdy pine trees blowing in the wind. “I think you should just say thank you.”
He looks down at the other clothing. I borrowed the shirt from Percy and the pants from Felix. Neither fit very well. “Whose clothes am I wearing?”
Why is he sounding so demanding? “Friends of mine.” I press my lips together. I don’t discuss my tenants, or rather my family, especially with a recently released convict who has a good chance of returning to prison after the next trial.
“I don’t like asking questions twice.” His voice grinds to a low rumble.