Total pages in book: 331
Estimated words: 315585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1578(@200wpm)___ 1262(@250wpm)___ 1052(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 315585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1578(@200wpm)___ 1262(@250wpm)___ 1052(@300wpm)
As I sit here, the wind picks up, but heat covers my skin. I can feel him. I haven’t been able to pinpoint where he comes from or what it is he wants, but he’s been there.
Tonight is different. I can hear the sound of his boots on the muddy ground behind me, and I can smell him. It’s a cool night with a strong breeze. It’s on purpose. For some reason, tonight is the night he wants to be seen.
“I thought stalkers were supposed to go unnoticed,” I say, keeping my back to him.
A dark chuckle caresses my ears, and the breeze blows my hair around my face. Getting to my feet, I turn, and it gets caught in my lip gloss, slapping my face. I take a second to push it back, tucking it behind my ear.
The cemetery is dark at this time of night, with only one light, and even it’s on its last leg—flickering on and off. But the moon is out in full, giving me enough light to see the man leaning against the large tree. He’s got his right black combat boot against the tree, knee bent. He stands over six feet tall, dressed in a black hoodie and light-wash jeans. He pulls a pack of cigarettes out of one pocket and a Zippo out of the other. Lighting it up, he flips the lighter shut and puts them both away.
“Aren’t there enough things that’ll kill a Lord?” I wonder, filling the silence. “Why put yourself in an early grave?”
The end of the cigarette burns as red as a cherry before he blows it out. “Speaking of graves…” Kashton looks around. “Why the fuck are we out here at three in the morning?”
“Why are you stalking me?” I counter, pushing my hip out. I was here first.
“Doubling my odds.”
I snort, not understanding nor caring enough to ask what he means by that. He pushes off the tree, getting my attention, and I take a step back.
His lips curl up slightly with amusement. “Nothing to be afraid of.”
I laugh at that absurd observation. “Oh, I’m not afraid of you.” I’ve come a long way in the past six years. I will fuck a man up without thought.
He takes another step toward me, and I match it.
“Your actions say otherwise,” he muses. Putting the cigarette between his lips, he takes in another drag as his gaze drops to my black platform boots. I had to sew up another Lord after a confessional tonight, and I haven’t changed yet, though I at least had the chance to wash up afterward.
“Maybe I’m pretending.” I shrug. “To throw you off.” You have to bait the hook before you can cast the rod.
“Pretending?” he repeats, taking another pull before blowing it out. “Is that what this is, Eve? Are we going to pretend that I haven’t seen you naked?” I swallow at the way his blue eyes graze over my chest. Those butterflies that I can’t seem to shake take flight in my stomach. “That I never heard my name on your lips while cum leaked from your pussy?”
“Kash—”
“You remember that, right? Before you ran away from me?”
I roll my eyes to feign annoyance and ignore the way my pussy clenches at the memory. “It was one time.”
“It was the first time,” he promises. “You won’t get away from me this time, Eve.”
He takes another step closer, and I match it once more. I won’t let him touch me. “What we did was a mistake. We both know it.” I wasn’t aware of who he was that night, but I am now, and I want nothing to do with him.
“Want me to save you from a rapist? Then you can reward me by letting me have my way with you while you beg me like a good whore?” He smiles at me. “That’s what you’re into, right?”
“Fuck you, Kash,” I say through gritted teeth, hating that I ever let him get me off.
The man turns and makes his way to the bathroom. I blink, trying to calm my racing heart. I came all over myself. Like a trained whore. I can’t say no. It’s not a word we’re allowed to use.
But I wanted him. He looked at me like I was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. He saved me.
I glance down at the dead guy on the floor and get to my feet, even though my legs are shaking. A quick look at Kash, and he’s still in the bathroom, washing his hands. I grab his suit jacket, rush to the door, and softly close it behind me.
I run, pushing people out of my way, tears rolling down my face. I feel sick, my stomach turning and a sour taste filling my mouth.
“Whoa—”
My upper arm is grabbed, and I’m spun around.