With Visions of Red (Broken Bonds, #1)

by Trisha Wolfe

“Damn. Starting to look like the same MO. I’m thinking something upset his plans, and he didn’t get to dress her. Maybe she fought back, was more than he bargained on, and that’s what set him off. Decided to kill her without the dress being part of his ritual.” He looks at me with a grim frown. “I think you’re right,” I say, and his eyebrows hike toward his hairline. “Something going wrong during his ritual would explain the rage. The heightened level of torture and the overkill. He was angry.”

A wave of fear crashes over me, but I keep reminding myself this is the job. I’m not there—I’m not his anymore. And then I’m not acting; I’m wriggling and twisting, trying to break free of his hold.

The shock of cold air hitting my skin sends a buzz to my head, the room bleeding away at the corners. As his hand roams lower, inching my thighs apart, my breathing intensifies. I can feel his own labored breaths against my neck, his thick want along the crease of my backside.

My wriggling to reach farther pushes my ass up against Quinn’s crotch, and he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth. “Fuck…Bonds, take it easy on a man.” Only I’m no longer paying attention to him.