Total pages in book: 205
Estimated words: 204377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1022(@200wpm)___ 818(@250wpm)___ 681(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 204377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1022(@200wpm)___ 818(@250wpm)___ 681(@300wpm)
My stalking gait gains on her, the anticipation electrifying.
Up ahead, she stumbles, snow crunching underfoot in her frantic escape, the very ground pulsating with her desperation. Sweat glistens on her face, her wild eyes darting across an endless blanket of snow, searching for salvation.
There’s none to be found.
Stillness slides through me, a steady stream of stealth and calm in my veins.
I honed my skills for this exact moment, years of instinct and experience culminating in this singular pursuit. Every nerve, every sinew, every ounce of my being tuned to the thrill of the hunt.
The world narrows to one point of focus.
Her.
My prey.
I explode into a run, ready to claim what is rightfully mine.
47
Frankie
—
Under the dance of lights in the darkest night, I run for my life.
Fear is an icy gust, pushing me across snow-covered rocks and ravines. Yet it doesn’t grip me entirely. A tremor of excitement takes hold, because deep down, I know my hunter won’t hurt me.
But he’ll do other things.
The things I want to do to you are dangerous and uninvited.
“Fuck.” Panic seizes me, staggering my steps.
I quicken my pace and will my gasps to silence.
What am I doing? There’s nowhere to go.
His footfalls grow nearer, creaking and haunting yet strangely grounding. Surrounded by dark, shivery places, there’s comfort in not being alone.
But to tangle with this broody, intimidating man? It will be my undoing.
It goes beyond physical. I’m drawn to men like him. Like Leo and Monty. Overbearing. Overprotective. Over-the-top cavemen.
He’s my weakness.
Once he has me cornered, he’ll demand I explain myself, try to change my mind, and burrow himself deeper into my soul.
Over the past three weeks, I’ve worked too fucking hard to reel in my feelings. Like a winch, winding, cranking that arm round and round. Each turn grows tighter, harder, becoming impossible. But I keep pulling it in, pushing it down, and now I’m holding the arm of that crank. Holding it with all my might. There’s so much tension, so much pressure, if I let go now, it will explode from me, violently, terribly, breaking bones and bursting vessels on the way out.
More footsteps. So close the hairs on my nape stand on end.
I cast a glance over my shoulder.
Nothing.
But I know better. He’s there.
Fading in and out of fog and shadows.
My ever-present stalker.
I surge forward, my thighs cramping and my belly teeming with electric wings. My toe hits something, and I stumble, thrust out my hands, and fall, the impact reverberating as my face eats a cloud of snow.
“Shit!” I spit ice, my lips burning and cheeks numb.
Back on my feet, I run harder, groaning at the sharp ache in my toe. Pain gnaws at my chest, but I steel myself against the insistent intrusions. Shifting my trajectory, I veer right, then left, narrowly avoiding another collision with the ground.
There’s no end to the darkness.
Where is he?
Sleet pelts my face. Rocks trip my feet. And the twisting in my gut…Oh, God, I shouldn’t have drunk all that vodka.
Then I see it. The edge of the valley, marked by the rocky mound of an outcrop. A place to hide. A place to think. A place to catch my damn breath.
I run faster, gunning for it with every muscle in my body.
Footfalls pound behind me, advancing at an alarming rate.
I’ll never make it.
So close.
I add on more speed.
Almost there.
An arm hooks around my middle.
My breath cuts off as momentum shoots me forward, my boots kicking, kicking, kicking. I can’t reach the ground. Arching, my back slams into a hard, heaving chest.
Another arm encircles my hips. More immovable muscle. Too much strength.
“Got you.” His breath comes hard, right at my ear.
My breath comes harder.
He half-walks, half-carries me toward the outcrop of rocks, stripping the pack off my back and dragging my feet through the snow. Chest-first, I hit a giant boulder, trapped but not in pain, his hands strong but not abusive, his bearing aggressive but not cruel.
His massive body presses in, all solid brawn and brute power against my back, pinning me to the ice-wrapped stone.
“Time for that talk.” His gravelly rumble vibrates my spine, so soft and close I feel it inside me.
But he’s not here for a talk. He wants to take control, counter with endless arguments, and break me down until I fall in line.
I clamp my lips.
He tightens his huge paws on my waist and leans in harder, deeper, heavier, letting his body show me what dominates his thoughts.
Holy big dick, Kodiak. Where have you been hiding that thing?
His erection is thicker than I expected. Longer and harder than I’m used to. It feels like a hammer, pulsing against the back of my leg.
“Your bargain with Denver is over. Effective immediately.” His teeth capture my earlobe and give it a warning bite. “Understood?”
I give him nothing. It’s all I have left.