Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 60904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
She’s not telling me about how he forced a kiss on her.
I don’t like that she’s holding back, but it’s probably for the best that she doesn’t even consider the fact that anyone could’ve witnessed the scene in her kitchen. She doesn’t suspect that there are cameras hidden in every room of her apartment. In her mind, no one could know about his attempted assault.
“That must’ve been enough to draw the attention of your stalker,” I reason.
Her mouth pinches with distaste. “I wish you’d stop saying that.”
“What? That you have a stalker?”
“Yes. I’m not a victim, Professor.”
“Rand,” I correct her. “And I can see you’re not a victim. That doesn’t mean someone isn’t stalking you.”
“What happened to not encouraging familiarity with your students?” she challenges instead of rebutting the truth.
“You were right. I was being an arsehole. I want you to call me Rand.”
She’s looking at me warily again, as though she isn’t sure if she can trust this new side of her uptight professor.
“Fine.” She capitulates, but she doesn’t actually say my name.
It irritates me, but I do my best to hide it.
“I should go join the others at the pub,” she says. “Amala was really upset.”
She reaches for her phone, but I pick it up before her fingers brush the device.
“What are you doing?” she demands.
“Giving you my number.” I enter my contact details.
“What? Why?”
I spear her with a no-nonsense look. “If you’re not planning to tell anyone else about your stalker, I want you to come to me if he contacts you again.”
She couldn’t be falling into my trap more perfectly, and I have to conceal my smirk. I won’t have to worry about anyone else comforting her through this difficult time.
Karolina’s trust issues are working to my advantage for once.
She snatches her phone away, but I close my fingers around hers, trapping her.
She gasps and goes completely still. I know she feels it too: the electric chemistry we share. The almost painfully intense sensation of our skin finally touching. After agonizing years of physical denial, she’s within my grasp.
Her eyes are soft when they meet mine. Some of her defenses have dropped.
If I were truly a stranger to her, this kind of contact would be unwelcome from her professor. But deep down, Karolina knows me. She recognizes her soulmate.
It will take time for her to accept the truth, but in this moment, I know I have her. She will come to me. I can be patient.
“Tell me you’ll call me if you need help.” I don’t bother to keep the ring of command from my words.
“Okay,” she breathes.
My kitten can be so sweetly submissive when I turn this side of myself on her. Our power dynamic is even more potent in person than it’s ever been over a phone screen.
Good girl. I barely hold back the praise.
Reluctantly, I withdraw my touch, allowing my fingers to brush hers as I slowly break contact.
She shakes herself slightly, as though tossing off a reverie.
“Thank you, Professor,” she says earnestly.
“Rand.” I keep my voice deep and demanding.
“Thank you, Rand,” she replies, softer this time.
“I’m here if you need anything. Day or night. I’ll make sure you’re safe, Lena.”
I hate using the shorter version of her name, but it’s close enough that I won’t slip up. No matter what I call her, Karolina will always belong to me.
14
KAROLINA
That night, I lay awake for hours, consumed by guilt over Rich’s death. As soon as I finally drift off, I’m dragged into my worst nightmare.
Carter’s weight pins me beneath him, and blood drips onto my cheeks from his broken nose. His eyes glint with fury and something far more disturbing.
His groping hands imprint bruises on my breasts, taking what he wants from me.
Part of my brain warns me to soften and submit; to let this happen with minimal damage to my body.
But I know Brandon is only minutes behind him. I can’t bear it if the boy I love violates me too.
I strain against Carter’s hold on my wrists, wrenching my torso upright—just enough to allow me to sink my teeth into his neck. I taste copper on my tongue when his skin gives way beneath my vicious bite. My stomach lurches, but I don’t allow the nausea to distract me.
For a precious second, his grip loosens. I wrench my hands free and grab the discarded horseshoe that I was using to break the lock on the trunk where the gun is stored. I smash the aged steel into Carter’s head, putting my full force behind the blow.
He reels back, clutching the side of his head. A crimson stream pours over his fingers. His eyes widen with disbelief, and he drops to the hardpacked dirt floor.
He twitches once, then stops moving. Blood pools around his frozen face and darkens his blond hair. His eyes are open, staring at me without seeing.