Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
My hands on my hips, I swung around to face him. “So now I’m not allowed to open my own doors?”
He raised an eyebrow as he stepped close. “Are we inside your home?”
I crossed my arms and huffed.
“Answer me.”
His barked command made me jump. “No.”
He reached around me, brushing my arm and sending a frisson of awareness over my skin. “Then you have your answer.”
After checking the empty corridor, he motioned for me to follow him.
“You don’t think all this is a tiny bit over-the-top?” I grumbled as I reluctantly appreciated the view of his tight ass in his jeans as I trudged behind him.
What was that saying about bouncing a quarter?
He opened the outer door, swiveled his head from left to right, checking the side street, before allowing me to follow him through. “Depends. Do you think being chained in a basement over several months while your kidnappers send pieces of you back to your father a tiny bit over-the-top?”
The image horrified me.
While my father might not have been anyone’s idea of father-of-the-year, I knew he loved me, and the very idea of torturing him, and the rest of my family, like that churned my stomach.
He directed me to a massive, shiny black Ford F-150 truck. It was like strolling up to Optimus Prime.
“You drive this thing?”
He opened the back passenger door and placed my cello upright in the footwell behind the driver. “Yup.”
“In the city?”
After moving to the other side and opening the door, he tilted his head toward the interior. “Yup. Get in.”
Like most New Yorkers, I didn’t even have a driver’s license. I was used to seeing our city streets crammed with yellow cabs, black sedans, and smaller domestic cars… not insanely large pick-up trucks more suited to rolling over small mountains.
There was absolutely no way of entering this thing without literally hauling myself upward in a very unladylike way.
As I surveyed the situation, Reid shifted behind me.
His warm hands spanned my waist.
“Hey!”
“Hush, little girl.”
He easily lifted me into the back passenger seat of the truck. Before I could adjust it myself, he yanked on the seatbelt and pulled it across my chest and lap, buckling it.
I bit my lip to keep from letting out a silly, girlish sigh at the protective gesture. After all, I was supposed to be hating having a bodyguard watching over me. Right?
Enveloped in the scent of his cologne, I sat back inside the cool, dark interior as the sounds of the city receded.
When he climbed behind the wheel, I leaned forward as far as the seatbelt would allow. “I don’t have to ride in the back as if you were my driver.”
Although I’d spent my life in the rear seat being chauffeured around from one destination to another—Father didn’t like my sister or I riding the subway because of the possible dangers involved—this was decidedly awkward.
As if the simple division between the front and rear seat was a physical manifestation of the difference in our classes.
Tossing me a sharp look over his shoulder, he started the truck. “I’m not your fucking driver, Lottie. I’m your bodyguard.”
I bristled. “I was just trying to be nice. And I didn’t say you could call me Lottie.”
My name was Charlotte. Full stop. No one, not even my girlfriends, called me Lottie.
His tanned, muscled right arm stretched between the seats as he gripped the passenger seat. There was just a hint of color near the upper shoulder peeking out from his T-shirt sleeve. It appeared to be the bottom half of the U.S. Marine Corp insignia.
“I don’t need you to be nice. I need you to be obedient.”
A shock of awareness hit my chest.
There it was again. That sexy, domineering, protective vibe that radiated off him like heat.
Leaning to the side, I pulled my cello closer like a shield. “Fine. Well, I need my panties back!”
His large hands grabbed the leather steering wheel as he expertly maneuvered through the cluttered streets. Shifting to the left, he reached into his pocket and pulled out my panties.
Twirling the lacy piece of silk and nonsense around his index finger, he laughed. “You mean these panties?”
With an outraged cry, I lunged for them, but was snapped back by the stupid seatbelt. “Give those to me!”
“Not a chance, princess. These are mine now.”
“You’re the worst.”
He met my gaze in the rearview mirror. “Really? I got the impression earlier I was your best.”
My cheeks burned as I smirked. “That’s a pretty low bar, considering you’re my first.”
What I thought would be a snarky comeback turned out to be a terrible admission.
The tires of the truck screeched as he pulled over into an alley.
He got out of the truck and circled around.
Meanwhile, I searched through the tinted windows, my gaze scanning for the threat he must have seen.
My passenger door flew open, and Reid leaned inside, his right arm stretching over my lap as he slipped his left hand around the back of my neck.