Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 126522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
My brows furrow. The boys have never led me this way before. I came through this way yesterday but that was due to snooping, not because they intentionally wanted me to be there. “What’s going on?” I demand as his hand falls straight back to that spot in the center of my back and nudges me along.
Roman doesn’t bother with a response and my irritation grows. My jaw clenches and I find myself slowing as we approach a closed door. I shake my head, my gut telling me that the last thing I want is to walk through that door, but Roman’s pressure on my back makes it impossible to stop.
We reach the door, and as he leans around me to twist the handle, I take off like a fucking rocket. My feet slam against the old tiles and I dodge around Roman’s body before flying back the way we just came. I get three steps away from him when those fast reflexes have his fingers snapping around my wrist and yanking me back into his hard chest.
My body slams against his with a loud oomph and I don’t miss the way his hands fall to my waist. His chest rises and falls against my back and goosebumps spread over my skin. His hand brushes up my body until his fingers are trailing over my cheek. Instinctively, my head tilts to the side, offering my neck for him as a wave of hunger surges through me. “Such a pretty face,” he mutters, his soft whisper brushing over my shoulder. “It’d be a shame to have to mess it up.”
I fly away from him, tearing myself out of his arms as the realization hits. I’ve been fucking with serial killers. What the hell is wrong with me?
I stare at him in horror. He means every damn word, and I know he’d come through on that if I were to step out of line again. So why am I pushing the boundaries? I should be keeping myself backed in a corner, not provoking the slayer squad. “What’s inside that room?” I spit through my clenched jaw.
His eyes sparkle, just as they had in my torture chamber, and without another word, he reaches for the door and throws it open. “In.”
“Over my—” I cut myself off, my eyes widening as I realize what I was just about to say and the smirk that stretches across his face tells me that he’s more than happy for me to complete my threat.
“Please,” he insists, a sickly-sweet tone filling the space between us. “Finish what you were about to say. I dare you.”
I shrink back away from him as my gaze flicks toward the room. “What is it?”
Roman’s patience gets the best of him and he reaches out for me, gripping the front of my tank and pulling me into him. My chin snaps up, my gaze remaining focused on his as I catch myself against his wide chest. This close up, his wicked scar reminds me that a man like Roman DeAngelis isn’t one to be messed with. Levi though, that’s another story. “Either get your ass inside that room, or I’ll put it in there in pieces.”
Well, fuck.
“Tell me,” he continues. “Would you prefer that I slice and dice with a blade, or can I just get in there with my teeth? Though do be warned, the wolves won’t be able to resist that kind of fun.”
My hand falls to his on the front of my shirt and I pry the material from between his clenched fingers before begrudgingly stepping toward the open door. I don’t take my eyes off him, too afraid of what he might do with my back turned, and as I step through the narrow doorway, I finally allow myself to peer through to what I assume will be my doom.
Only I find a man staring back at me, one who doesn’t bear any resemblance to a DeAngelis brother. A gasp pulls from between my lips, and before I can ask what the hell is going on, Roman appears at my back, shoves me the rest of the way through the door and slams it shut behind me, leaving me trapped with this strange man.
I glance over him in caution as he does the same to me, but it only takes me a moment to spot the stethoscope dangling around his neck. “You’re a doctor?” I ask, my back straightening as the smallest ray of hope rises from the ashes within me.
The man nods. “Yes,” he says, glancing away, refusing to meet my eyes. “Please take a seat.”
I shake my head, gaping at him as though he just pissed on a cactus. “No … no. What do you mean take a seat? You have to get me out of here. You have to help me. Please.”