More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
I won’t let myself feel guilty about finding comfort in human touch. I think I’ve been through enough to allow myself that. Just for tonight.
And tomorrow, I’m getting that confession.
If my stomach weren’t growling, I would be tempted to stay in my room all day, just to see if Cash is really capable of respecting my boundaries. Too bad when I step into the hallway my stomach absolutely rumbles at the mouthwatering smell of bacon. There’s music coming from the kitchen too, soft R&B.1
Then, in stark contrast, is Cash. He’s humming along to the music while chopping something with his back to me. A giant skull stares back at me with hollow eyes. The tattoo covers his entire back, the only thing interrupting the grayscale art is a raised scar, like a stripe, between his shoulder blades.
You should probably go to bed before I fuck you until sunrise on every inch of this counter.
And there’s certainly a lot of countertop to cover. Involuntarily, I imagine his hard, tattooed body over me, pinning me as he takes what he wants. The ripples of his inked muscles. The dark fire in his eyes. The rough, hungry way I’m sure he kisses—
If Cash is going to keep me here, quasi-captive under some disillusioned notion that he cares for me, then I should at least be able to use it to my advantage.
During breakfast, I noticed two cameras trained on the living space and kitchen. I’m sure there are more. Disturbed, I realize there is probably at least one in this room too, though I haven’t found any visible ones. I wonder if they’re recording audio too. If so, that would make my job a lot easier.
“God, you really are desperate, aren’t you?” I try to come off slightly coy, slightly annoyed as I stroll into the kitchen. “Baby, desperate isn’t a strong enough word.” His eyes sweep down my body at the same time he licks his bottom lip, and goddamn the butterflies that erupt in my stomach.
I sigh, partly to be dramatic, but partly because breathing is becoming harder. “You said you wanted to fuck me on every inch of the counter.” “Fuck, it sounds so much dirtier coming off your sweet lips.” His hand on my hip squeezes, and I’m ashamed to admit, I rock into his touch.
“Well, I noticed the cameras. If anything happened, would anybody else see it?” “If they did, I’d kill them.” He says it so blasé, but I know it’s not a figure of speech. “That work of cinematic art would be for my eyes only.”
“I’m scared, Cash.” It’s not what I intended to say, but it slips out, nonetheless. “I know, but you don’t have to be scared of me. And as long as you’re mine, you don’t have to be scared of anyone else.” I want to argue and tell him I’m not his. I’m not a fucking object he can claim. But I tell my feminism to pipe down because now isn’t the time.
I look up at him through my lashes and hesitantly trail a finger along the dark stubble on his jaw. His eyelids flutter close. “Look at me,” I whisper breathlessly. “Promise to keep me safe, Cash.”
His kiss is searing but gentle, just ghosting across my lips as if he’s expecting me to pull away. When I don’t, the hesitation is gone in a flash and he growls, digging his fingers into my neck and jaw so he can crash down on me. I yield to his drive, responding enthusiastically but passively, letting him think he’s the one in control.
He grinds his pelvis into me, and I let slip a soft whimper. He responds just the way I expected, diving in even hungrier, rolling into me as he sucks and kisses the length of my neck. I inhale sharply at the feel of his mouth, and it isn’t all pretend. In fact, very little of it is. He grasps me by my throat. Not in a threatening way, just a dominating, desperate way, like he’s aching for control but only if I’ll give it. “Keep making those sweet sounds and I really will fuck you on every inch of this counter.”
My hand doesn’t shake, this is the culmination of weeks of work and even more heartache. I whip the gun out and shove it against his ribcage. He raises his hands with a smirk. “Damn, baby, you into that freaky shit, huh?”
“You know what I find incredible? You don’t even remember me. You were in such a bloody rage that I was an irrelevant detail in the background. A moment that haunts me with crippling nightmares and constant guilt, and you didn’t even commit it to memory.”
“You may have the police tricked or bribed or however the hell you did it, but you don’t fool me, Cash. I know what I saw, and I saw you murder my best friend.”
“The Russian.” “Beth! Her name was Beth, and you slaughtered her like a fucking animal!” I yell, and my voice is strained with all the permanent pain that night caused.
“And what’s your name, a chuisle?” “What?” “What is your name? Because it sure as ...
This highlight has been truncated due to consecutive passage length restrictions.
“Harlow.”
1. Penny Lover—Lionel Richie | SummerOtoole.com/Playlists 2. Bad Intentions—Niykee Heaton
The Alibi
Cash
It’s not the first time I’ve had a gun to my head, and I can tell she— Harlow—is more scared than I am.1 A given, since I’m not scared at all. Her hand under mine is trembling, and all I want to do in this moment—and for the rest of my fucking life—is to take that tremble ...
This highlight has been truncated due to consecutive passage length restrictions.
Except right now, I’m her b...
This highlight has been truncated due to consecutive passage length restrictions.
“Would you believe me if I told you I’m being framed?”
“Revenge, retribution, money, to start a war…But that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that you believe me. I’m assuming you’re the one who gave the police the description of my tattoo, correct?”
I know the moment the video shows me kissing a tall brunette in a Pirates jersey because Harlow’s jaw clenches, and it makes heat prick low in my stomach. She doesn’t like seeing me kiss someone else. Wicked satisfaction flares in my chest.
Good. I don’t want to be kissing someone else.
“We’re endgame, baby, and if you don’t see that, you better put that bullet in my head right now because I’m gonna ruin all other men for you when I worship every inch of your body.”
Her resistance to accept what she’s truly feeling has blood rushing to my cock. The more she fights it, the more explosive it will be when she finally gives in.
She can lie to herself, tell herself that our kiss was just a ploy, but I know better. She was fucking ravenous, and I was all too happy to offer up a feast.
“She’s an associate's daughter. I’d never met her before that night and what you saw was the first and last time we ever kissed. I haven’t thought about a single other woman since the second I first saw you.”
“My turn. Did you really think giant, red, heart-shaped glasses were the best undercover look?” She looks confused at first, but then I watch her face shift and eyes widen as she realizes what my question means.
2“And the ice cream shop?” She’s tucked into the corner of the couch, her arm resting on the back of it as she props her head in her palm. We’ve been going over every detail of the past two weeks as she teases apart what I’d had a hand in and what was still an unknown factor.
My arms wrap around her soft stomach, my fingers spreading wide to palm the top of her full ass. I want to be the gentleman who gives her a polite peck on the cheek, then lets her go. I want her to know there’s something more to me than just burn and hurt and hard edges. Even if I’m not sure it’s true.
My hand goes from gently palming her ass to digging my fingers into the ample flesh as I pull her tight to me so she can feel the effect she has on me, my dick jutting hard and desperate between us. I bring my mouth down on hers, demanding it yield to me as I mold her lips to mine, plunging my tongue past her lips so that I can taste her very essence.
I release my hold on her, wedging my thigh between her legs as they fall to either side. I pin her with one hand on her hip, the other clasping her jaw.
I grind my thigh up and can feel the heat from her cunt even through our layers of clothing. She doesn’t hesitate to match my movements, and a deep groan rips from my throat at the feel of her unapologetically using me for her pleasure. “That’s right, baby. Such a good girl, riding my leg. Can’t wait to feel your pussy squeeze my cock when you ride it just like that.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t apologize for wanting me, because I sure as hell won’t apologize for wanting you.”
I pull up the feed from the camera hidden in the crowning of the guest room.
I’m planning on fucking my fist while she falls asleep, watching her dark hair spill onto the pillow as she tosses and turns and the little crease between her brows relaxes as unconsciousness takes her. But instead, she slides her hand below the sheets and there is no mistaking the subtle movements that follow. Would ya look at that, my girl is a dirty little slut.
Flames race across my skin as I strip my cock, watching her sweet fucking mouth fall open on a moan. My other hand fumbles to turn on the audio, her soft pants now echoing in my ears and mingling with my own. The sound is so fucking erotic, even rooms apart, I throw my head back into the chair and squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting this to end so damn quick.
A goddess, a fucking goddess.
I zoom in on her face, wanting—needing—to learn every twitch and barely perceptible shift in her expression. Wanton pleasure dances across her face, and I grip the base of my cock as she digs her head back into the pillow. She’s close, so fucking close.
But then, with one word ghosted through her lips, I come hard and violently, my cum coating my shirt and fist. I struggle to catch my breath as she repeats the word again while spasming with her own release. “Cash.”
1. Thing of Beauty—Danger Twins | SummerOtoole.com/Playlists 2. Continue playing Thing of Beauty
Good Girls
Harlow
