The Wrong Kind of Love Read Online L.P. Lovell, Stevie J. Cole

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
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The dim overhead light glints off the metal as he places it on his lap, and my stomach churns. Only a couple hours ago, he killed a man with that gun–a man he knew.

The thought fills me with an ominous kind of dread.

“Don’t get any bright ideas, doll.” He tilts his head back, resting it against the door as he closes his eyes.

It isn’t long before his breaths even out, and I wonder if he’s pretending, trying to lull me into a false sense of security.

I eye the gun in his lap. If I can just get it… Then I’ll still be screwed because I have no idea how to use it, not to mention, my hands are bound. But I prefer my odds holding that thing a hell of a lot more than having it pointed at me.

I slowly stand, my pulse pounding like the beat of a drum. What happens if he wakes up? The man undoubtedly has a temper, but right now, I’m not sure I have much to lose.

Jude’s eyes are still closed tight, his chest rising in even swells when I crouch in front of him. The rope digs into my wrists and my hands tremble as I reach for the weapon. Just as my fingers brush the cool metal, his hand latches onto my arm.

“I’m a very light sleeper.” His green eyes flash open. Then he yanks me forward with such force I land on his solid chest. “What were you planning to do?” He chuckles. “Kill me?”

The brush of his whiskey-laced breath across my face triggers blind panic, and I lash out, my balled fists meeting his face with a crack.

There’s a pause, a moment where neither of us seem to breathe as a tiny trail of blood trickles from his nose. His angry gaze locks with mine, the muscles in his jaw ticing as he wipes it away.

Without warning, his hand lands on my throat, pinning me to the floor beneath him.

“I’m sorry!” I blurt, as though an apology will save me from his wrath.

“You have no idea who you’re fucking with, little girl.”

I try to fight his hold, but it’s embarrassing how easily he immobilizes me. Not that I expected to overpower him, but a brief struggle would have saved the shred of dignity I had.

He slams my bound hands above my head, and his gaze drifts from my pinned arms to my lips before a slow smirk wipes the anger from his face. “Quite the predicament that temper of yours has gotten you in.”

My face heats. It isn’t enough that he’s taken me, he has to be a condescending asshole, too. “I didn’t mean to hit you.”

“That’s a shame.” He lowers his face to the crook of my neck, placing his warm lips right beside my ear. “Because I liked it.”

I realize although he could easily hurt me right now, he isn’t. He’s just restraining me. “You should probably talk to someone about that,” I blurt. Then cringe. Why the hell did I say that?

A deep, throaty laugh rumbles against my ear. “Fuck.” His fingers tighten on my wrist. “If you weren’t a hostage…” His warm breath caresses my throat and my pulse skitters in response. I tell myself it’s from fear because I refuse to admit it could be anything else.

I go to try to shove him off of my just as the office door opens.

“Shit, Jude. Sorry. I didn’t realize you had a girl here.”

I glance over Jude’s muscular shoulder, locking eyes with the young guy in a pair of jeans and T-shirt who is standing in the doorway. He looks like a younger, cleaner, more innocent version of Jude. Same dark hair, same green eyes. They must be related. A brother maybe? I allow myself to hope that maybe he’ll help me.

“She’s not a fuck, Caleb.” Jude shoves off of me, and I shoot to my feet. “Rich brought her back as collateral.”

A disbelieving look falls over Caleb’s face. “What the hell are we supposed to do with her?”

“I don’t know! Put her in a room?”

“Whose room?”

“Yours.”

“Aw, come on, Jude. I’m supposed to have Crystal over this weekend and–”

“Shut up, Caleb.” Jude latches on to my arm, and drags me into the hallway that shows no trace of Rich. As though he was never here. Never died. Never lived.

Does he just have body fairies that clean up his mess? The thought unsettles me, because it shows that death is a regular occurence around here. And mine would be easy.

He starts up a flight of stairs that lead out of the basement. This all feels like a bad nightmare, something that isn’t really happening to me.

“You can’t just keep me here.” I tug against his hold, for all the good it does.

Jude glances down at me with an incredulous look, his grip tightening to the point of bruising as he drags me into a beautiful foyer. Polished hardwoods, a crystal chandelier, everything clean and tidy. I don’t know what I thought a criminal’s house would look like, but definitely not homey.



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