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Then Came You (Animal Magnetism #5) The Partner

I floated on a cloud of indifference as I pleasured, touched, tasted. Nothing registered—neither scent, nor taste, nor sound. I was a robot, a perfect toy—my only purpose: to make him come.

And I'll take what I want and pay for my own desires. Nightmares for my loneliness. The darkness for a friend.The longer I lived in Q’s house, the more my French improved. Rust gave way to smoothness and it happened without my knowledge. I no longer frowned and worked out every word—gist of sentences became clear, no longer fumbling in the language dark.

The Demigod Files

Although I missed Suzette and her friendship, I didn’t care about the isolation. I was left alone; it kept me focused.Under the disguise of cleaning, I searched the library and lounge for weapons. A letter opener, scissors, something to help me dispose of the GPS tracker. I couldn’t run until I removed it. Q would find me too easily.My escape plan wasn’t well thought out. I had no Mission Impossible idea of taking Q hostage and forcing him to release me. All I had were my legs, and a few apples I managed to steal from the kitchen. Living in an open home granted the illusion of freedom—to go where I pleased, move around at will—but in searching for weapons, I realised how false the freedom really was.

Never Judge a Lady by Her Cover (The Rules of Scoundrels #4)

Guards patrolled the upstairs level, keeping me from entering bedrooms. Black suited goons patrolled the sweeping grounds outside, their breath sending foggy plumes into late winter air.I could enter the library, lounge, kitchen, and bedroom only. It was a tiny cage compared to the expanse of the house. If I cared about staying, I would’ve sneaked and investigated. Where did Q sleep? What other rooms were there? More like the pedestal room where the Russian bastard hurt me, or worse?

But I didn’t care. I’d been here long enough. I wouldn’t play damsel in distress waiting for Brax or the police to rescue me. They would never come. It was up to me, and I was ready.

I stepped out of the library, wafting a duster, disappointed yet again I couldn’t find a sharp implement, and froze.Chubs turned toward me sharply, drawing his arms up, crossing them in front of his chest. The look he leveled at me over his glasses would have turned a weaker soul to stone.

That, he said slowly—precisely, I thought, to make sure I understood, is absolutely none of your business.I held up my hands, retreating.

Room for Just a Little Bit More (Cranberry Inn #2.5)

Were you even thinking about what could happen to her when you followed her? he pressed on. Do you even care that your friends in the green SUV would have gladly scooped her up?The people in the green SUV— I began, and would have finished, had the door not suddenly rolled open behind us. Chubs let out a noise that could only be described as a squawk and just about flew into the front passenger seat. By the time he had settled himself down, his eyes were almost as wide as Zu’s, who stood watching him from the door.

Don’t do that! he gasped, clutching his chest. Give us a little warning, will you?Zu raised an eyebrow in my direction, and I raised one right back at her. After a moment, she seemed to remember the reason she had come and began waving us outside, her bright, sunny-color glove flashing.

Chubs unbuckled his seat belt with an aggravated sigh. I told him this was a waste of time. They said Virginia, not West Virginia. He turned his gaze back toward me. By the way, he added, that SUV was tan. That’s some photographic memory you have.An excuse leaped to my throat, but he cut me off with a knowing look, and slammed the door behind him.

I jumped out of the van and followed Zu. As my feet sunk into the mud and sad, yellowed grass, I had my first good look around.A large wooden sign, leaning back like someone had nearly run it over, said EAST RIVER CAMPING GROUNDS, but there was no river, and it certainly wasn’t your typical camping ground. If anything, it was—or once was—an old trailer and RV park.

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