Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 168121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 841(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 168121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 841(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
“Because she is Charlee. This is the last time I’ll tell you. Go. Away.” He swatted a hand behind him, missing Felica by a ridiculous margin.
The woman rolled her lips between her teeth, turned on her heels, and strutted away. He looked at Charlee out of glazed eyes. Was he having a hard time centering?
She shoved his shoulder. “What’s wrong with you?”
His eyebrows pulled together and snapped back. A smile skittered across his swollen lips. “I’m buried seven-inches in, baby. Ain’t a goddamned thing wrong.” He powered into her. The strength of his thrust spiraled through her womb. It burned so good, but something was off.
Clumsy. Overly confident. Unfocused eyes. Oh God, he was high. Her muscles tensed to fight him off.
His eyes dilated and he pinned her hands to her chest, stroking her womb with his lunges. She should tell him No. She should shout it through the arena.
But that would bring the wrath of Nathan with fists flying as he dragged her from L.A. Her molars slammed together. She could deal with this.
His mouth fell over hers, and she head butted him. Undaunted, he fucked her with the potency of his strength and the weight of his body. It might’ve felt orgasmic if he weren’t fucking high.
Self-loathing trembled off her in waves. She wasn’t behaving any different than his countless meaningless lays. She brushed the miserable feeling away and wrenched a hand free of his restraint at her chest. “Jay, stop.”
He drove harder, faster.
Stunned, she gasped. No air. The weight pounding into her smothered her reasoning. Roy’s heavy-bodied arms pinned her down. Fragments of shuffling down the long corridor with the chain on her ankle burrowed in her throat, strangling.
He rotated his hips and shoved a hand in her hair. Brown eyes met hers, Jay’s eyes, soothing her…until his face twisted in ecstasy.
No more. She grabbed his chin to stay his disoriented gaze. “Huntress.”
His jaw moved with his smile, twitching beneath her hand. “I wrote that song for you.” His thrusts caught a hiccupping pace and he crashed to a halt, buried deep inside her, eyes rolled back in his head. “Unngh. Fuuuuck!”
The power of her safe word faded with his orgasm. She shoved his head away. He swung it back, looking down at her, lips wet and slack. “Best. Fuck. Ever. How about you?”
She slapped him. “Not even close. Get the fuck off me.”
He jumped up and back, hand covering his cheek where she hit him. He narrowed his eyes. “What the fuck, Charlee?”
Her lip quivered. Don’t give into it. Get up, dammit.
She rose, teetered on her heels, and adjusted her clothes with trembling fingers. Her panties lay on the stage. Ruined. Just like her pride. Fucking bastard.
But the shame gripping her body was no one’s fault but her own. She’d allowed Jay to use her, trusted his sobriety, and depended on him to honor her safe word. So naïve. “Do not follow me out.”
She turned slowly, deliberately, and schooled her gait as she walked away. The lump in her throat could stay where it was. She was not going to let it burst into a wet mess of emotion.
“Charlee.” A question lay beneath the sternness of Jay’s tone. “Don’t run.”
So he was coherent enough to know he’d given her a reason to run. Deep breath. She stopped, looked over her shoulder. “I’m not hanging around so you can fuck me again while you’re high.”
He looked down at his dick hanging exposed and partially erect. A choke ripped from his throat, and he stumbled back, shoving himself in his pants and zipping up with more force than was needed. “Oh fuck. Oh Jesus.” He raked his hands through his hair, pulled at the messy strands, and jerked his gaze to Charlee. “No. No, no, no. This isn’t…I’m not…Charlee, wait.”
The hitch and wheeze in his voice threatened to melt her backbone. For a flickering moment, the man she thought she knew looked at her, actually saw her. The sag in his eyes and the twist of his face chased her heart to her throat.
She turned away and strode toward the corridor behind the main stage toward Nathan’s back. Passing him, she tapped his hand without slowing her steady stride. “Time to go.”
As if floating out of her body, her feet carried her past the control booth and down the hall.
He was so lit, did he even know who he was fucking? He’d said her name while he was seven-inches in. Oh, but he called all his girls Charlee. Tears welled in her eyes.
Jesus, hold it together. He hadn’t let Felica touch him. It would’ve killed her had he interacted with her. And the horror warping his expression when he finally realized what he’d done was somewhat assuring.
Whatever. The fact that the asshat ignored her safe word was an unforgivable snap of a whip through the heart.