Seduced by the Spy (Forbidden Confessions #6) Read Online Shayla Black

Categories Genre: Erotic, Insta-Love, Novella, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Forbidden Confessions Series by Shayla Black
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Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 24504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
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Finally, I nod. “As much as I can be right now.”

On the vanity, a bottle of my favorite scented lotion and a tube of vampy red lipstick I only wear for New Year’s Eve and bar-hopping are missing.

Since we’re running out of time, I let him pull me from the bathroom.

Dread weighs me down as he leads me into my bedroom. Shadows fill the corners where the light from my nightstand isn’t bright enough to reach, so I flip on the lights overhead.

I don’t see anyone hiding, and no one jumps out at me. But the drapes have been drawn, despite the fact I opened them this morning. They’re now flapping in the breeze.

“Th-the slider to the backyard is open.”

“Yep,” he growls. He’s already noticed—and he’s furious.

“It was closed five minutes ago.”

Rush gives me a grim nod. “Now we know when and where he exited your unit.”

Yes, and it’s obvious that if I hadn’t been so aware of my surroundings, I would have unwittingly put myself in the intruder’s clutches. God knows what would have happened then.

I grab Rush’s arm tighter as he slides my closet door open with his boot. At a glance, everything appears undisturbed. That’s a relief…until I look at my bed. Instantly, I know someone else lay on it, maybe even wedged himself under the covers then inexpertly tried to make it again. The thought of a stranger on my sheets, doing who knows what, makes me stumble with a wave of nausea.

Rush wraps his arm around me. “He’s been in your bed?”

“Yes.”

His grip tightens, as if he’s lending me his strength. It works. I feel safer, more protected. But I’m also aware that I’m small comparatively, that I can’t match someone like him in size and strength. That if Rush wasn’t beside me now, I would have been completely alone to fend off this terrible intrusion. I hate being afraid and vulnerable to a potential stalker or rapist.

Swallowing back the sickening apprehension, I stare at my lingerie drawer like it’s a snake I’m afraid to touch. It’s a relief when I hear a car cruising down the street before pulling up in my driveway, cutting short my time to discover what else my intruder displaced. I can’t bury my head in the sand forever, but at least I know that whoever invaded my home—my personal space—is no longer inside.

What about tonight, once everyone is gone?

“They’re here.” Rush settles his hand at the small of my back.

Despite all the upheaval and upset, I flash hot at his touch. “Yeah. I just need to look at one thing…”

I veer to my nightstand and inch open the drawer without touching the knob. My gun is still there, exactly where I left it. I breathe a sigh of relief.

At the slam of the car doors outside, Rush knees the drawer closed and leads me down the hall.

“Thanks for being here and helping,” I say.

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m glad I was here.”

I’m still not sure why he came, but there’s no time to ponder that. Instead, we meet the two officers in the driveway and exchange a few words. After a cursory search of the house that seemingly netted nothing unusual, they meander back out, ask a few questions, then shrug at one another.

Bottom line: since nothing was taken and there are no provable signs of a break-in that can’t be written off to my “forgetfulness,” there isn’t much they can do.

As soon as the police leave, Rush turns to me. “That’s annoying. You okay?”

“I’m not thrilled, but I’ll be fine. Thanks for staying with me during all this. I didn’t mean to eat up your Friday evening.”

He waves me away. “Tell me what you want to do next, stay here tonight? Or come home with me?”

The only man I’ve ever wanted is asking me if I’d like to spend the night at his place? If we’d be naked and doing the mattress tango, I’d love that. But Rush is just being a nice guy. A concerned co-worker. I need to stop wishing for more.

That’s not easy. I still get the same butterflies and rushes of heat I got years ago when I was the forgettable gawky girl who shocked him with an out-of-the-blue kiss. But I guess I’m still forgettable if all he wants to do to me is babysit.

“I appreciate the offer, but I can’t leave. I’ve only had Kitty Pie a few days, and she’s proven she’s a destructive force, especially at night if she gets too bored. I have to stay here.”

He levels me with a skeptical glance. “Will you really be able to sleep by yourself tonight?”

No. Whoever’s been in my house obviously knows how to bypass my locks and my security system. Knowing that, how much could I possibly sleep? Sure, I have a gun and I’m decent in target practice…but the idea of actually using it on a real human gives me pause.



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