Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Thankfully, his silent pledge isn’t just for me.
All the female kitchen staff makes it through dinner untouched—some more disappointed than others since they crave the men’s touches.
Alek is quite popular, and Ghost forever has admiring gazes locked with him. I’ve never seen Ghost accept an advance. I can’t say the same for Alek. He stalks the halls with a different woman on his arm each night.
After a long shift, I enter my room, not surprised by the spread laid out for me on a serving tray. I eat like a queen every day, three times a day. It’s added a bit of cushioning back to my breasts, thighs, and backside, but I’m not so sure that is a good thing. I get ogled more now than when I wore see-through nighties and sheer panties. Just no one is game to touch me since they’d face Ghost’s wrath if they did.
Recalling how well he has protected me the past nine days, I gather up the serving tray and head back out of my room. Alek is lingering in the hall again, except this time, a pretty blonde is nibbling on his ear. I don’t recognize her, but that’s not saying I don’t know her. Her face is so sheltered by the strands of hair fallen out of Alek’s manbun, none of her features are displayed.
Confident I can sneak away without being detected, I carefully close my bedroom door, then take a right instead of my usual left. I’ve become accustomed to the many hallways and nooks and crannies of this ship. I know my way around. I’ve just not wandered at this hour of the night.
“I-I’m sorry,” I stammer out when my trek down one corridor has me stumbling onto a couple in an intimate interlude. A brunette is on her knees, and a man with tattoos snaked up his arm is ramming his cock in and out of her mouth.
With the tension between them too hot to pay me any attention, I slip past them before crossing through a stack of shipping containers. The corridor Ghost’s office is in is quiet. Not a peep can be heard—not even the moans of a woman enjoying herself until it is too late.
I enter without knocking and once again discover a woman on her knees. Her eyes connect with mine past the thighs of the man whose back is mostly facing me, but the bobbing movements of her head persist without fault.
She carries on unraveling him while I remain frozen like a fool.
Ghost didn’t return to the dining hall, so I stupidly thought it would be nice to share my dinner with him. I didn’t want him to go hungry since he ensures every stomach on the ship is filled each evening.
Clearly, his hunger had nothing to do with food.
I don’t know how to explain the emotions that bombard me, but they make my jaw tight and my palms sweaty. I can’t breathe through the unexpected anger enveloping me, but before I can fathom a reason for my odd behavior, my watch gets busted.
A man with eyes as icy as Ghost’s glares at me, except he isn’t Ghost. He’s the brute who tried to grab me earlier.
“I knew you wanted me.” My eyes dart down to his penis hanging out of his pants when he pulls back from the woman kneeling before him before they snap back to his face. “Come, Pаб.”
I shake my head.
It is stupid of me to do.
I’m not allowed to deny any man’s demand, not even when I’m certain I’ll die if I don’t defend myself.
I dodge the knife he sends flying across the room with only an inch to spare. It stabs into the wall behind my head and spills some of the tomato soup down the front of my clothes.
Spit flies in all directions out of his mouth when Artyom sneers out, “I wasn’t fucking asking. Come. Now!”
Even conscious my life is dangling on a thread, I shake my head again while shuddering like I’m in an ice bath. Alek said no one on this ship would hurt me, and although the pain of watching who I thought was Ghost in a sexual act hurt me, I doubt it will be anything on the pain Artyom wants to rain down on me.
I didn’t glance at his penis because I wanted to look. It was because it’s covered with blood—blood I doubt came from him.
When Artyom growls a menacing snarl, I drop the serving dish and hightail it down the corridor. I’d rather face Ghost’s wrath than kneel before Artyom, but regretfully, I’m not given the choice when he catches up to me near a tall stack of containers.
He slows my sprint by grabbing a fistful of my hair, then he uses his painful grip to flatten me against a cool, salt-riddled surface.