Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
The clothes are still warming up by the fire.
And Soren is still gone. God only knows what he’s doing out there.
He left in such a hurry that I don’t even know what to think.
One second, he looked at me like he was about to leap over to me and pounce down on me like a predator … and then he looked twisted and in pain, his face all contorted. I swear I could see him reach for his dick, but before I could process and ask him about it, he stood and left.
Why, I don’t know.
Maybe he was uncomfortable with me asking so many questions.
Or maybe he needed to pee just as badly as I did before.
I sigh out loud. I don’t even dare to run because I’m sure he’s watching me from behind a tree or something.
My cheeks suddenly heat, but I dig my nails into my legs.
“Don’t you ever think like that. Not about this guy,” I murmur to myself.
Suddenly, tiny twigs snapping have me on edge.
“What was that?”
I hear his voice before he appears from behind a tree, and for some reason, the panic subsides. Guess I was expecting a wolf, and I got … well … I don’t know what I got, but it definitely isn’t a normal man.
Though the look on his face is much more relaxed compared to before.
“Uh … Nothing,” I respond, hoping he didn’t actually hear me.
He just throws me another raised brow while approaching. He picks up the clothes and feels them before placing them back. They’re obviously still wet, and I don’t know what it means, but I’m definitely not moving while in this blanket, and I think he knows.
He sighs and grabs the log, repositioning it so it’s sideways from the fire. Then he rummages around in his bag and takes out that same rope again.
Adrenaline immediately rushes into my veins again, getting me ready to spring into action, even with this blanket on me.
“Don’t. Please,” I say as he stalks toward me with those manly pecs that I can’t seem to take my eyes off, no matter how dangerous he is, while he unfurls the rope slowly.
He stands still in front of me, the way he towers over me still making me gulp.
I’m not taking off this blanket.
I don’t care what he says.
He leans in and throws the rope over my body, catching me off guard as he tightens it, along with the blanket, around my body.
“What are you doing?” I ask. “Please don’t tie me up to a tree again.”
He continues to strap the rope to me until I’m completely unable to free myself, and the panic begins to flood my veins. But then he throws the other end around his own waist and ties a knot.
My lips part. “But—”
“You stay with me.”
The raw, gravelly voice with which he says those words enter my ears in a totally different way than how I think he meant it. And I hate how my body responds with obedience when he tugs the rope and beckons me to get up.
But my brain finally kicks into gear, and I dig my heels into the dirt. “No, where are we going?”
He keeps roping me in until my body bumps into his. All the breath is knocked out of my lungs from the sheer force of his taut muscles clenching against my supple flesh.
I whimper as he picks me up and sets me down near the log. His log. The log he just repositioned and is now lying down onto with his head. I stare at him while my body quakes … because his hand is still on my leg, and my pussy just thumped.
Fuck.
“Sleep.”
Sleep?
He wants us to sleep? Now? Out here?
“What?” I mutter, completely surprised by his ideas. “I thought you wanted me out of the house to take me somewhere else?”
“Tomorrow.” He presses down harder on my leg, and it makes me whimper.
I never whimper.
My muscles tighten in response to this unwelcome feeling roiling in my stomach.
I glare at him for a few seconds, wondering if it would just be easier to do what he asks.
I sigh out loud and groan. “Fine.”
I slowly go down, making sure not to bump my head as I rest it onto the log, wondering how I’m supposed to fall asleep with this burly man staring at me from the side.
His hand leaves my skin, and for some reason, it suddenly feels very cold, causing my skin to erupt into a million goose bumps.
He closes his eyes and starts breathing slower, like a bear going into hibernation, and I can’t help but listen to it closely.
Will there ever be a time when I can maybe get up and try to reach that knife I know he’s carrying?
Or am I too much of a chicken to even try, knowing he could hurt me for trying? Let alone the fact that I don’t know what happens if I run … how long it will take him to catch me.