Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“Do you at least watch TV?” I ask as he pulls the covers back. I just can’t imagine him watching… well, anything.
He grabs the remote without answering. “Here, get in bed and put some shit on. Don’t die while I shower.” He throws the remote back on the bed, then stalks past me and straight into the bathroom.
Not long after, I hear the shower turn on as I look around. It’s so bare. Apart from the bed, you wouldn’t even think someone lives here. Sitting on the mattress, I kick my shoes off and cross my legs as I look for something that might tell me this man won’t kill me while I sleep. I know I should run, but I’m so fucking tired that I can’t fight it or him. And if he wanted to kill me, surely he would have done it by now, right? I mean, I passed out, and he called a doctor. Clearly, that’s a good sign. Isn’t it?
Fuck, I don’t even know. I hear the shower cut off, and I quickly turn the TV on. The volume is up high and assaults my ears. When I look up, I see a naked woman on the screen, and a man lies on the bed stroking his hard cock as he beckons her to come closer.
Shit, is this porn?
How do I turn this off?
“Tell me, baby, front or back,” she whispers and turns around to give him her ass. He slaps it as he gets up and spits on his fingers before he shoves them up her ass.
“I’ll take this later,” he says, then slides his very hard cock into her pussy. I’m trying to switch the channel and failing miserably, but I’m also stuck in a trance, watching it. So much so that I scream when Alek speaks.
“Do you like it?” he asks, standing in the bathroom doorway, wearing long, black cotton pants. He casually walks around to the other side of the bed and then climbs in. He looks way too good, lounging beside me in nothing but those pants. How could he look better than the man on screen? I wonder if his cock is just as big.
Fuck. Clearly, I need to get laid. It’s been too long—a year, to be exact.
I’ve been focusing so much on my career that I haven’t really had time to date anyone. Or wanted to either.
Maybe I should invest in some toys.
I snap back to my current reality with a half-naked man beside me, dazed that I lost focus so quickly.
“It was already on,” I tell him, handing him the remote as if it were poisonous. He takes it and switches the channel. “Does porn help you sleep?”
“Why? You want to watch some to help you sleep?”
The only light in the room comes from the glow of the TV, so I look at the screen to see he put on the news. I scowl. I hate the news. “You prefer the porn?” he asks, noticing my reaction.
“I prefer neither.”
“Has it been so long since you’ve seen a cock that you can’t help but blush?” he asks. I turn to look at him, shocked that he has the audacity to ask me something so personal. Well, at least that confirms he’s not a robot. He does understand the motions between being a woman and a man.
I then notice he’s not wearing his leather gloves.
“Why do you wear gloves?” He clearly hates physical contact, and I wonder how someone can cringe away from a touch.
“Why don’t you like porn?” he throws back.
I turn onto my side, giving him my back.
This man is insufferable.
Maybe not a robot, though.
But possibly a vault. Unmovable and most likely empty.
“Put on a movie,” I tell him. He switches the channel to a horror movie about a nun. Fuck. I close my eyes and try to think of something else.
“Scared of nuns too? Fuck. Cock and nuns; weird combination.” He changes the channel again, landing on a comedy. How did he know that? He wouldn’t have been able to see my face. The bed shuffles slightly, and curiosity gets the better of me. I peek over my shoulder and see a book in his hands.
Hmm… didn’t take him for the reading type at all.
“Go to sleep, sunshine,” he growls out.
“Make sure I wake up, okay?” I say. “I’m too young to die.” Before he can say anything, I add, “And no, that wasn’t an old man joke.”
“You’re a strange one.”
I don’t know why, but a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth, because he is the last person who should be calling anyone weird.
CHAPTER 12
Aleksandr
She’s a quiet sleeper but also a mover. Or maybe I’m overly conscious because I haven’t had anyone sleep in my bed since Anya and I were children and she was scared of our foster father in the second home we were in before Meredith, our final foster mother, took us in. Meredith is the very same old bitch who Anya put a bullet in months ago when she uncovered she’d been the one to kill our parents when we were four.