Total pages in book: 189
Estimated words: 181808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 909(@200wpm)___ 727(@250wpm)___ 606(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 181808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 909(@200wpm)___ 727(@250wpm)___ 606(@300wpm)
“What the fuck?” All he could see was her shadowy movements and hear the sounds of her getting dressed. “You’re leaving? I …” Sitting up on his elbows, he could see her bend over then stand, and he heard the hiss of a zipper.
Fuck this. At least they usually waited until the sun came up to take off.
“At least turn on the fucking light so I can …” Moon sat up, his hand moving to the nightstand to take out a towel to wipe him off with.
Gaping at her in the darkness, he saw her shadow form hurry toward the door. Then, instead of turning on the light for him, he saw the door crack open and her starting to slip out.
He lost his cool and didn’t hold back. “If you see Ember, send her my way. At least she wears a man out. I see why you always prefer threesomes—you’re lame as shit on your own,” he snapped out harshly.
With her back to him, Moon saw her jerk as if she had been struck. Then, without saying anything, she slipped through the door and closed it behind her.
“Fuck …” Regretting his harsh words, Moon shimmied across the mattress to turn on the bedside lamp. He jerked the twisted sheet off his hip as he took the towel out of the drawer, then wiped his pelvis off, seeing he no longer wore the condom. When had it come off? When she had jerked away from him? Moon tried to remember if it had slipped off his cock and couldn’t.
“Fuck.” Throwing the towel into the hamper next to the nightstand, he turned the light back off then lay back down. He was too tired to be worried about it tonight. The condom was just an extra safety measure all The Last Riders swore by to keep their lifestyle worry-free. All of the women in the club were on birth control, so he had no worries if the condom slipped off. There wouldn’t be any unexpected consequences.
Spreading out on the bed, Moon bunched a pillow. “Fuck the holidays …” he murmured groggily. “Fuck them all. I never got a gift I wanted, anyway.”
He pressed his lips together and turned, reaching for another pillow to hold as the familiar loneliness settled back into the room.
A small hint of perfume wafted from the pillow, loosening the chock-hold keeping him awake and allowing his mind to finally let him drift off into a dreamless state where it didn’t matter if he never woke up. No one would care.
CHAPTER FIVE
Closing the door behind her, Larissa thanked every God in existence that the hallway was empty and the sprawled-out couple across the hall seemed comatose from their exertions.
Instead of using the opportunity to flee down the stairs, she rushed toward the restroom Winter had led her to before she had lost her ever-loving mind. Hurriedly closing the door, with fumbling fingers, she managed to lock it before leaning against the sink and staring at the woman she didn’t recognize.
Shell-shocked eyes took in the tumbled hair she had taken over an hour to style before going out, her shirt had been stretched out and no longer clung to the curve of her neck, and worse than anything, her lips were puffy and swollen from the man who had pillaged her mouth as if he were on a mission to storm every defense she had to keep men at bay.
Frantically looking around the bathroom, she found a small door to the side—a linen closet—and quickly grabbed a hand towel before she went back to the sink.
She turned the cold handle on to wet the cloth and pressed it to her lips. Then, uncaring about the privacy of who lived there, she started opening drawers, searching for a hairbrush. When she couldn’t find one, she tried finger-combing the thick mess without success when a thought came to her mind. Going to the shower, she pulled back the curtain to find a purple hairbrush hanging from a shower caddy. Seizing it as if were a bar of gold, she darted back to the sink and brushed her hair out so fast she felt the roots being ripped out.
A sudden tap on the door had her soul leaving her body, still so shaken by what she had done.
“Larissa?”
Winter’s voice from the other side of the door had her running back to the shower to put the brush back.
“Are you okay? You were taking so long I thought I would come check on you to make sure you’re all right.”
“I’m all right.” Quickly switching the washcloth to her forehead, she unlocked the door. “I’m sorry I took so long. I’ve had a headache. I was hoping the cold washcloth would help.”
Winter gazed at her sympathetically. “I hate migraines.” Stepping around her, she went to the mirrored cabinet beside the sink and opened the front to take out a bottle. “Here you go.” After handing her the Tylenol, Winter turned expectantly toward the hallway.