Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Not in a million years. “Last night was a one-time deal.” I blurt the words out, lifting my chin for emphasis.
He stops moving, turns, and wraps an arm around my waist. With a quick pivot, he plants me in front of him on the bike, facing him. I try to lean back to take the weight off my sex. He slides a hand beneath my blouse and under my bra, palming my breast. “Do you really want to do this now?”
I gulp.
He balances the quiet bike with his strong legs while his other hand unzips my pants.
I grab his wrist. “Wait.”
“No.” He tunnels inside and slides a finger inside me. I’m a little embarrassed to be wet. “This belongs to me. Not a one-time deal. Got it?”
I blink.
He plucks my already sore nipple. I gasp from the pain, even as I dampen his fingers.
He shows his teeth. “This is mine.” He plucks again. “Right?”
Numbly, I nod.
“And this.” His thumb presses on my clit. “Right?”
We’re nearly in the street. Anybody could see us. He doesn’t care. I have to get out of here. Worse yet, I’m getting even more aroused. I give a quick nod.
He shakes his head. “More, Rosalie. You pushed, now you pay.”
I hate him. And kind of want him. Wouldn’t mind another orgasm, even though I’m so sore. He flicks my clit. “Fine. I’m yours,” I whisper. I’ll kill him later. Yeah. That’s a good plan.
“What’s this?” He leans in, his nose almost touching mine as he twists his fingers inside me.
“Yours,” I whisper, out of my element completely.
His gaze searches mine. “Good girl.” Whatever he sees in my eyes, which has to be a plan to kill him, makes him smile. He fixes my clothing and then swivels me back around behind him.
With that, he twists the key and the engine roars to life.
My clit lights and I suck in a breath, biting my already sore lip. It was a little swollen, and I’d managed to find a soothing cream-type of lipstick. The bites on my breasts still ache, as does my entire body. I try to convince myself that he’s just playing a game and doesn’t really consider us together. Consider me as belonging to him. I can’t go around with bite marks all the time. Or bruises. Even if they are in erotic places. “We need to talk about this.”
“We just settled everything. Stop pushing me.” If anything, he sounds bored as he opens the throttle.
When did everything get so out of my control? I wrap my arms around him and lean in, holding tight. His rain and oil scent fills my senses. I shiver.
His low chuckle echoes back on the wind.
TWENTY
Alexei
I like the efficiency of the court’s docket. I sit in the seat next to Rosalie as she stands and argues to have my conviction overturned with prejudice instead of the way it was—meaning they can’t try me again and I’m free for good.
She looks stunning in the navy-blue suit with light-pink shell, her hair up. It was a glorious mess when we arrived on the motorcycle, so she pinned it up smoothly, her gaze not meeting mine. I’m fine with that. She’ll accept her fate soon enough. We definitely fit.
Last night had cemented both of our fates. I’ve been with hundreds of women, maybe more, and she has permanently made me forget all of them. From now until my end, there will only be Rosalie.
I glance over at the prosecutor, who’s a young guy with blond hair. He might be pushing thirty and wears a gray Armani suit with a red power tie. I try not to pull against Garik’s shirt. The worn cotton is the nicest one he has, and it’s too small for us both. If today goes well, I will change our status. In fact, I need funds to pay the men who had agreed to be on my payroll, at great risk to their own lives.
Rosalie flips her papers. “There’s no other solution here, Judge,” she says. “The corruption of Judge Sower and the prosecuting attorney has been well-documented and well-proven. While Mr. Sokolov’s conviction has been overturned, granting him a new trial, I must argue that said order should’ve been granted with prejudice. The state must not be allowed to try him again. I’ve just given you more evidence, but you already know there’s no other option but to overturn the conviction . . . with prejudice.”
The judge flips through her file folder. The prosecuting attorney already argued that I received a fair trial, and will get another one, but the judge questioned him rather harshly about the corruption.
The prosecuting attorney seems young and earnest, so I doubt he worked here seven years ago. We have no actual proof that the judge was dirty in my case, but so many payments were logged into his offshore accounts that it is impossible to tell where the money came from.