Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 125982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
“Time to wake up. What’s your name?” a male voice asked. It was deep and warm, soothing even. “As if it matters,” he added under his breath.
“Wh-what?” she managed to stammer, trying to claw her way into full consciousness.
“Open your eyes,” he ordered.
Kyla tilted her head and furrowed her brows, disoriented.
“Open,” he repeated.
Opening her eyes was a chore. Her lids felt so heavy. She finally managed and as her surroundings came into focus, her heart sped up. She was remembering.
Being taken flashed in her memory. She’d been outside the building at her night job, putting out a bag of trash at the end of her shift when a hand had covered her mouth. She’d been dragged kicking and screaming somewhere by someone with superhuman strength until her hands and legs were tied tight. Then everything had gone black.
Now her ankles and wrists were no longer bound. Fingertips played with the fringe of her panties. She struggled to sit up, eyes suddenly wide with alarm.
“Stop,” the voice commanded, “Look at me.”
She tried to take everything in, knowing instinctively that she needed to gauge her surroundings and think fast. Before her eyes met the face of a man at her feet she tried to assess her surroundings, deciding it was imperative to do this before analyzing the face of her of captor. He was holding her ankle with his left hand. His right hand was on her inner thigh. As she tried to assess both him and her surroundings the haze lifted and everything zoomed into consciousness.
Location? Hotel room or bedroom. The room was big and almost dark except for a dim floor lamp a few feet away. Heavy drapes hung over what looked like a wall of windows straight ahead. Was it still nighttime?
She was on a big ornate four poster bed with a pile of dark throw pillows in various shapes around and behind her, like a decorating store showroom bed. Her skirt was hiked up around her waist so before another thought occurred to her modesty kicked in and she tried to pull her skirt down. Before she could he let go of her thigh and shackled her wrist with his grip.
She lifted her chin toward his face and suddenly her eyes were trapped, stuck. She was rendered a deer in the headlights.
Holy fuck was her very next thought.
Her captor? The eyes that held hers were the most piercing icy blue eyes she’d ever seen. If she weren’t right in front of them she’d say they weren’t even real. He was tall, dark haired, dangerous-looking, and his bangs flopped over his forehead just a little, his hair slightly long, parted in the middle, almost touching his collar bone with a slight finger combed wave to it. He looked like he was probably in his mid to late 20’s.
Even though the room was dim it was as if his eyes were faintly lit, like reflective cat’s eyes, or no --- wait, more like faint solar LED bulbs at dusk, and they were burning into her. She had a fleeting thought about Lite Brite, the toy where you poked little coloured light bulbs through black grid paper to make designs that lit up. She remembered sitting in the dark and making Lite Brite designs with someone as a child and her favourite design to make had been blue eyes and green eyes side by side. She pushed the odd thought away and focused on the arctic blue eyes in front of her.
He looked like a model or a movie star. Chiseled features, cleft on his chin, five o’clock shadow, and those eyes…how could they be so vivid in a room so dim? And what was she doing here with him? Kyla had a pretty good amount of street smarts. Normally she was watchful, especially in that dark alley. Being nabbed like that, not something she’d have ever expected to happen. And certainly not something she’d ever suspect would bring her to a specimen like the one in front of her.
She found her voice, “Who are you? Why am I here?”
“There’s no need to be afraid. Relax, don’t scream. You’re not in danger. Tell me your name.” She stared at his full lips as he spoke slowly and softly.
“You’re okay. Just breathe. Mm, very green. Gorgeous. And you smell so good.” He leaned closer and appeared to be peering into her eyes the way someone would look out a window. His eyes grew wider and got even more intense. His tongue moistened his full bottom lip and then his teeth scraped the lip before he asked, “What’s your name?”
“What?” she breathed. She might’ve momentarily forgotten it.
“Tell me your name,” he urged softly.
She inhaled and her breath caught. Her heart thudded hard against her chest wall. She was sure it must be audible to him, too; it was that loud. She couldn’t seem to exhale. She felt a surge of what must have been adrenaline and the adrenaline decided then, as she got a chance to exhale, that she should beeline for a door that was straight ahead. She tried to lunge toward it but he still had an ankle in his grasp.