Liar.
My brain’s reminder that I’ve been ready for his torment to be over with and resolved to whatever end I’d come to by his hand goes ignored by me as my stalker smiles.
It’s unnerving. It’s vicious.
“This is the rest of your life, Greer.”
His use of my name stiffens me.
He’s been in my house. Of course, he knows my name. He also resigned from my job in my stead, and I have to face that fact sooner rather than later.
Of course, if I get out of here, I’m confident I can get the position back, but getting out of here will be a feat.
We drove through the forest for nearly thirty minutes. There’s no fucking way I can find my way back to civilization. I’ll be lucky if I can find a road.
The private drive leading to the cabin was at least five miles long.
“And how long will the rest of my life be?”
“If I tell you it’ll be short, will you start behaving better and enjoy the time you have left?”
“Doubtful.”
He rolls his eyes, sighing. “Get in bed. You’ve had a long day.”
“You caused it.”
“Your sass, while understandable, will not be allowed much longer. Do with the warning what you will.”
I grumble under my breath as he turns the light off.
Getting under the covers, I realize his scent permeates every bit of the fabric surrounding me, and I’m two seconds away from ripping off the blanket when I feel a pressure change on the opposite side of the bed.
“What are you doing?” I ask, sitting up.
He grabs my hair, yanking me back down, which lands me on his arm.
Curling his arm behind my shoulders, he tucks me into him. “I’m getting into bed.”
Bear leaps onto the end of the mattress, and I eye the traitor as he does his typical spin in a circle before lying in the perfect position, dance.
I try to push away from his massive body, but his hand flattens against my back as he turns on his side, his other hand gripping my hip, causing a nip of pain to sear through it. “You might want to hold still.”
“Why?”
“Because if Bear gets the wrong idea and attacks, we’re close enough that itmightbe me he gets, or it might be you.”
“What are you—” His hand shoves down the front of my sleep shorts, invading my apex again.
“Stop,” I plead, pressing him back.
The stupid, incessant throb in my sex only grows more assertive, and I hate myself for it.
“Do you want me to stop? Or do you want what I offer?”
“I want you to stop.”
“Let me tell you something, and listen to me well.” He wiggles his fingers beneath my panties, the tips of them prying my pussy lips apart before he circles my clit with one. “I don’t like lies. Lies get people killed.”
