Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Carrie looks up at me, relief washing over her face, and an exasperated sigh accompanies it.
“No. I don’t think so.” Good girl. Saying all the right things to keep me from making a terrible decision. Restraint is good.
“You heard the lady,” Balding says, and my eyes snap to him. “So why don’t you scamper on back behind the bar and pour me another drink?”
restraint is good …
My eyes move from him, to the guy at his side, and finally the last sitting opposite. They look scrawny and weak, and being inebriated is a plus in my favor. But I don’t like my odds going three on one.
I’ll give them one more chance to shut this down peacefully.
“Why don’t you join me behind the bar?” I slip a hand around Carrie’s waist, trying to guide her away from the rabble.
But we barely make it a step before Balding shoots a hand out and grabs her by the wrist.
He tries to speak, no doubt something along the lines of she’s not going anywhere with you, but I don’t let him get a word out.
Within seconds of his greasy fingers touching Carrie, I have his balding head in my hand. I slam his face forward against the table and apply pressure until the table starts creaking beneath him.
His friend to the side stands, but before he can get anywhere near me, I kick in his direction. My boot strikes his mid-section and he hurtles back, crashing over the table behind him. The third doesn’t move, stunned and scared shitless.
“You want to try me too?” I growl.
He shakes his head.
“Then get the fuck out of here.”
He does as he’s told, tripping over his own feet while he runs for the door.
“Christ, relax, man. I was only messing around.” I hear Balding’s murmurs from below.
I press down harder, keeping him pinned, half hoping his head pops like a grape. It doesn’t, so I lean in close to whisper something only he’ll hear.
“How fucking dare you touch what’s mine?”
He squirms in the chair, arms waggling and legs kicking, trying to break free. He won’t.
“I’m sorry,” he yells at the top of his lungs. “I didn’t mean nothing by it. We were just having some fun.”
By that logic, I’d keep him pinned here all night. Because watching this piece of shit squirm tickles some twisted part of my brain. But I can’t stay here all night. I shouldn’t even be doing this now. Not in front of her.
Realizing it, I release him and take a few steps back. My eyes move over to Carrie, scanning her face for any sign that my assault put her off. Instead, I’m greeted by a smile. A genuine smile, not one of the ones she gave me this afternoon.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” I say.
But she doesn’t respond. At least, not with words.
Carrie jumps forward and swings her arms around my neck. Standing up on her tippy-toes, she uses all the strength she has to pull me downward.
As I descend, her lips meet mine in an explosive embrace for the whole town of Sugarcreek to see.
And I’m left with more questions than when all of this started.
But they can wait until she’s had enough of my tongue in her mouth.
4
CARRIE
Idon’t know what came over me. Sure, I’ve had the want to kiss him since he swooped me off my feet and gave me a place to stay, but seeing Judge manhandle three guys just for talking to me funny was spectacular. It made me feel wanted. Whole. Stripped me of the feeling that my world was being consumed by nothing but bad.
So, I kissed him. A small token of my appreciation and a fantasy come true all at once.
I can feel his smile against my lips as the passion burns down to a more tender embrace. It warms me up to the point where my insides feel like they’re on fire. Luckily, there’s a wet spot between my thighs that can douse the inferno.
“All right, folks,” someone else yells over the murmuring crowd. I don’t recognize his voice, but I assume it’s the guy Judge spoke to at the bar. “There’s nothing to see here. Let’s get back to having fun.”
Maybe it’s the old guy’s soothing tone, or maybe it’s out of fear that Judge might turn his attention on them, but everyone goes back to what they were doing before things kicked off.
We break our kiss, and Judge looks back at the table. The guy and his buddies are long gone. When he’s satisfied that they aren’t hiding somewhere in the crowd, waiting to jump us, Judge takes my hand and leads me back to the staircase.
“You okay?” He asks once we’re atop it, overlooking the crowd below.
“Better than okay,” I admit honestly, entwining our fingers to keep his hand in mine as long as I can. Not that it’s necessary, I suspect. Judge hasn’t made any attempt to pull away.