Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Is risking my life for my career really the act of a woman whose sanity is fully intact? I hardly think so. But I also never claimed that I wasn’t insane. I guess the question is: who’s more fucked up—me or my mystery black-rose stalker? Don’t get me wrong, my stalker spends his night sending me messages via decomposing organs, but I voluntarily work night shift in a morgue, slicing and dicing corpses, and there’s a special place in every asylum reserved for women like that.
Trying to ignore the offending locker, I keep my attention focused on the job at hand and just as I twist the handle, the familiar beep of someone entering the morgue sounds through the silence.
My back stiffens, and I whip around, my gaze locked on the door as my heart starts to race. My shift has only just begun. I figured I’d at least have a few hours to get some work done before the chaos started. I mean, shit. If this asshole is going to keep fucking with my work, then he should do the decent thing and wait until the end of my shift. There’s only so much slacking Dr. McKullan will tolerate before he loses his shit, and I pride myself on being someone who constantly completes my work.
As the door opens, I shuffle toward my autopsy table, discreetly reaching for the scalpel and hiding it beneath the table. I won’t be caught unaware like last night’s victim. If anybody is getting cut into a million little pieces tonight, it sure as fuck won’t be me.
Time seems to slow when one of the night nurses from the emergency department steps through the open door. “Here we are,” she says, offering a beaming smile to whoever stands outside the door. “Just let me know if there’s anything at all I can help you with.”
“Thanks, love, but I’ve got it from here,” a familiar voice says, making my unease shift into pure confusion.
Is that . . . ?
Knight Slater strides through the door of Blackstone’s only morgue, and I stare at him, gaping as my brain tries to comprehend what the hell is going on. Somewhere deep in the very back of my brain, I know he’s here to figure out what the fuck is going on with the victim from last night, and yet all I can think about is the way he stood before me, dripping from the shower, and demanded I get on my knees.
Fuck, I was such a whore for this man.
Surely it was a moment of weakness. He’s my step-uncle, and therefore it will never happen again.
Who the hell am I kidding? If he told me to offer up my ass on a silver platter right here in the middle of the morgue, he and I both know that I wouldn’t hesitate for even a second. Perhaps my stalker might get a show for a change.
“Uhhhhhhhhh . . .”
“Calm down, Morticia,” Knight rumbles in that deep, thick tone that’s quickly becoming the only thing that circles my brain. “I haven’t come to test just how quickly I can get you on your knees. I need to see that body.”
My jaw drops, and all I can do is stare at him. The audacity of this man.
I fucking love it.
“You got me on my knees once, Slater. Good luck making it happen again,” I tell him, casually placing the scalpel back on the table as though I wasn’t about to slice him from tit to dick. Turning on my heel, I stalk over to the locker that houses the body he’s come to see.
Knight follows my every step, and the closer he gets, the harder it becomes to breathe. Why the hell can’t I get this morning out of my head? I need to get my shit together, especially considering that I’m about to unlock the unit that houses a nightmare that’s bound to send me into a tailspin.
I need to concentrate.
Blowing out a breath, I step up in front of the locker, and as I reach for the handle, Knight moves in right behind me, his wide chest pressed against my back.
Every thought drains from my brain as my body launches into overdrive, his sheer proximity leaving me breathless. I become frozen to the spot, not trusting my body to move even an inch, and when he leans into me, the uncontrollable need to become his is all I can focus on.
“Let’s make one thing clear, Morticia. I don’t need luck,” he murmurs in that thick, addictive tone. His lips are so close to my ear that his breath brushes across my skin and his chest vibrates against my back.
Goosebumps rise over my skin, wreaking havoc on my body, and when his big hand falls to my waist and squeezes, my knees sway beneath me. “When I want you on your knees, I’ll fucking have you on your knees, Harper. You won’t deny me. You’ll drop to the ground like my perfect little whore and love every second of it. Pleasing me is what you crave. I saw it in your eyes this morning. You were greedy for my cock, and no amount of attitude is going to change that.”