Redemption Refused (Mission Mercenaries #5) Read Online Marie James

Categories Genre: Angst, Dark, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Mission Mercenaries Series by Marie James
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Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
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Chapter 12

Donavan

Agitation creeps over every inch of my body. It pulls at my skin, making it too tight to handle at times. If I thought walking away would make it abate, I’d head right for the door and never look back.

I’ve stayed away for a month, but every second I was gone, my mind was still right here with her.

The way she’s acting right now. The way her skirt is inching up her thighs with every dip of her hips as she sways to the music is drawing me closer and closer to the edge of my sanity.

She hasn’t behaved. She hasn’t changed the way she acts. She’s lucky to still be alive. Some fucking stars must’ve lined up to keep her in Texas because the attention she’s drawing to herself right now would put her right in the crosshairs of any trafficker who caught a glimpse of her.

She’s a fucking danger to herself.

Another man steps up to her, puts his hands on her hips and a predatory smile on his face as her head rolls on her shoulders. Since I was here last, shoving the asshole away from her after she left a frat party, she’s managed to get a fake ID. I watched her use the motherfucker to get into the off-campus party. I doubt they’d make her leave if she didn’t have one. She’s too pretty, that teasing look she’s mastered on her face, too tempting, to tell her to walk away.

I’ve seen it in every guy’s eyes who has approached her tonight. They all have it in their heads that they’ll be the one to get lucky. They’re going to be the one with whatever it is she’s looking for, who will end up with her on her back or on her knees.

This newest guy gets one song, and when the beat changes, she waves him away, finding him lacking. His jaw flexes, his barely controlled anger at her rejection evident in the way his hands clench when he steps back. His darting eyes tell me that if he didn’t have witnesses, she’d be in trouble.

I’m all for women having the right to say no and using that word to stop anything at any point in time, but as a man, I can also understand the frustration. The temptation of her body will make any man jealous and irate when she’s fine with rolling that lithe body against his for three minutes only to become indifferent the next.

Watching her act this way wouldn’t enrage me so much if I knew she was only doing it to force my hand, but she has no clue that I’m here tonight. I’ve kept to the shadows, making sure not to draw attention to myself. I wanted to see how she’s been acting when I’m not around.

I both hate and crave it all at once. If she were being a good girl, she’d be in her dorm room, and all I could do is stare up at her window with the hope that I’d catch a glimpse of her through the gauzy curtains. The way she’s acting now puts nearly every inch of her on display. I’m hard as a fucking rock and pissed beyond measure. She’s both giving me exactly what I want and doing exactly what I’ve instructed her not to do.

Yet another guy shimmies up to her, and she doesn’t even bother to open her eyes as she smiles when he drops his hands to her hips. The list of motherfuckers I should kill tonight just continues to grow. The fucked-up part is she doesn’t even care who’s touching her. It could be that smarmy bastard that I know had intentions of hurting her from the last time and she’d just let the motherfucker touch her.

This guy takes it a step further than anyone else I’ve seen tonight by running his hand up her arm and caressing the side of her face. Her nose scrunches with the softness and she pulls her face away.

My girl doesn’t want it soft and gentle. What she craves is darker, more sinister.

She craves me.

I ignore the woman trying to get my attention as I circle the group of people dancing in the middle of the room, grateful I never went to college. The stench of sweaty bodies, booze, and vomit is enough to make me sick to my stomach.

When the gentle-touch guy is shoved away, I make sure to shoulder check him as he walks past me.

He’s pissed, practically simmering with rage, but as I look down at him, he decides very quickly I’m not the one to take his anger out on. There’s a very real chance that every man who has been shoved away by her tonight will find someone else to take that aggression out on, but I’m not responsible for how they deal with their anger issues. Honestly, neither is she. She shouldn’t cave to pressure and take something from someone she doesn’t want just because of how they’d choose to react if she didn’t. That would be toxic on so many levels.


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