Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 62847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Gotcha.
Cassandra
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
Connor’s hand came down on my shoulder, hard. He spun me around and I stared at him in surprise.
How the hell had he heard me? I was quiet as hell. It was one of my special skills, dammit.
“What do you think you are doing?”
My mouth opened but no sound came out. He rolled his eyes and the next thing I knew I was slung over his shoulder and being carried swiftly back up the hill.
He carried me and all my stuff with ease. I could see that his feet were bare. It was pretty cold out here and he wasn’t wearing a shirt or shoes.
I winced, realizing he was more than a little bit pissed.
And he kind of had a right to be.
I was distracted by his body. I’d never been this close to a half-naked man before. Especially not one that looked like Connor. My body pressed against his bare skin. His bare, hot, silky skin. His hot skin that covered all those massive muscles.
His many, many muscles.
I had to steady myself with my hands on his chest. And lower. One hand settled against his flat stomach as I held on for dear life.
His hand shifted on my lower back and he grunted. It was like I was a log being carried by a lumberjack. Or a wild animal. He just hoisted me up and took me away.
It was overwhelming.
It was also kind of insanely sexy.
And that was before I realized I could smell him. Just a hint of something warm and masculine, along with all this fresh woodsy air.
No wonder he smelled like the trees.
He stomped up the porch stairs and kicked the door open. Then he kicked the door shut again and dropped me onto the couch.
He pointed a finger at me.
“Don’t say a fucking word.”
I sat there, feeling like an ass. Who gets caught sneaking out? And where the hell had I thought I was going anyway?
Now Connor was angry and I was at his mercy. Well, still at his mercy. I was pretty much screwed on all fronts and we both knew it.
I watched as he made a pot of coffee, ignoring me completely. He stared at me while it dripped, his arms crossed over that massive, bare chest of his. I swallowed nervously and looked away.
He rattled around some, and I heard a drill. I thought he was securing the door. That wouldn’t stop me from running again.
Clearly he didn’t realize I had gone out through the window.
A few minutes later, a cup of coffee with cream and sugar appeared in front of me. I stared at it, my mind turning. He must have remembered how I liked it.
That was… sweet.
“Drink.”
I took the cup and had a sip. At the moment, I would have done anything he asked of me.
“Talk.”
I exhaled and looked at him. Somehow the warmth in my hands was giving me courage. Then the ferocious look in his eyes instantly depleted it again.
I was at 50% on the brave-o-meter, at most.
“I need to see Mason.”
His jaw ticked.
“He’s safe.”
“He’s in a safe house?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“He refused to go in didn’t he?”
He stared at me. Then he nodded abruptly.
“I need to talk to him.”
He walked over to the couch and leaned forward until his arms were braced on either side of my head. He stared at me, his eyes hard and unforgiving.
“Absolutely fucking not.”
We stared at each other and I realized he didn’t want to kiss me now. He wanted to throttle me maybe. Or spank me.
He ran his hands through his hair and sighed.
“I’m trying to keep you safe Casey. I couldn’t take you to a safe house unless you were willing to talk. No one knows you are here.”
“What?”
“You aren’t a witness until you talk. So talk.”
“Why did you say you were taking Mason to a safe house then?”
“I tried. There is some wiggle room. And with you gone, it seemed like maybe he was gonna crack-“
“You used me!”
He smiled at me.
“Honey, I will use anyone and anything to get to Dante. I am trying to keep you alive though.”
“For the case.”
He stared at me.
“For the case.”
“I want fucking out of here. Now.”
He shook his head and reached out his hand.
“Give me your ankle.”
He held up a chain and smiled at me.
“What? No!”
“I need sleep and you need to stay put. So I repeat, give me your ankle.”
I shook my head.
“Unless you want to be handcuffed to me? We could sleep in the same bed.”
My heart thudded and I felt an odd warmth in my center. Between my legs.
I swallowed and shook my head.
“Didn’t think so.”
Was it my imagination or did he look disappointed?
He grabbed my leg and snapped the cuff into place. I kicked and screamed but it was no use. He held the chain up and showed me where it attached to the post.