Read Online Vendetta by Autumn Karr, Sienna Lane - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Autumn Karr, Sienna Lane
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I groan when I remember what I was reading last night.
“Never took you for a whips and chains kinda girl,” he says after a few moments.
“I’ll try anything once,” I say with a nonchalant shrug. His eyes widen for a second, his interest evident.
“Is that right?” he asks, returning the reader to the side table.
“Sure. You only live once, right?” I say as I sit down next to him, leaning into his personal space.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks suspiciously, scooting away. I lift my hand and place it on his shoulder, ignoring his flinch when we make contact.
“You’re so tense,” I say as I sit up on my knees and start to massage his shoulders. He groans when my fingers find a knot, and I work it out with my thumb. He makes a noise deep in his throat that causes a tug in my lower belly and my heart to race.
He is masculine perfection.
And not meant for me.
I sigh, pulling my hands away, and sitting back on the bed in silence.
“Thanks,” he says, his voice slightly hoarse.
“Anytime,” I reply, meaning it.
“I’ll get you some breakfast.” He stands up from the bed, but doesn't leave.
“I’m going crazy in here, Devon,” I tell him, my tone wavering slightly.
He turns to face me, his eyes staring into mine. His hands clench into fists. “I can’t take you out, Leighton.” The regret in his tone confuses me.
“How long am I supposed to stay cooped up like this?” I ask, standing up and putting my hands on my hips.
He doesn't say anything, just looks at me, heaving a heavy sigh because we've been over this. I know it, but I'm not about to give up.
“I want pancakes for breakfast.” I decide to be difficult, narrowing my eyes at him, daring him to say no.
“Fine,” he grumbles, taking a step toward me, leaning in, his face just inches from mine. His eyes dance between my lips and my own eyes. For a second, for a terrifying and exciting second, I think he’s going to kiss me. I could help him. I could just close the small distance between us and finally taste his lips after all this time. I can see that he wants it, but he’s fighting it.
We stand like that for what could be mere seconds or maybe minutes, I don’t know. I can see it in his eyes when he decides not to do it, feel him retreating, stepping away from this situation as he always does. He backs away toward the door, his eyes still holding mine, pleading not to push him when he’s so close to snapping. My shoulders slump in defeat and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to hate him.
“Fuck,” he practically growls, and then I hear the door slamming. My finger flies to my lips, wishing I’d closed that space between us. I open my eyes and stare at the door, willing it to burst open and for him to barge in and just kiss the living daylights out of me.
But he doesn’t.
I know the two of us is the most ridiculous idea I’ve ever had. My dad would probably flip out at the thought of it, let alone if he found out it happened.
My hand falls limp by my side. He’s coming back soon and I need pull myself together, pretend I wasn’t burning up inside for him.
I tidy up my bed, and put all my dirty clothes in the laundry basket. I don’t know who washes my clothes, but Hayley takes them out. She even brought me a bag of new clothes the other day.
All designer.
Where is Hayley, anyway? I was actually getting a little fond of her.
I walk into the bathroom, stripping down to my birthday suit and turning on the shower. When it’s the perfect temperature I step in under the water. I frown at my prickly legs that really need to be shaved. Not like Devon is going to give me a razor.
I really think he overestimates me.
I dry my hair and my body, walking out into the room wrapped in a towel. A short, bald man stands next to my bed, leering at me. I scream, run back into the bathroom, and lock the door behind me. It’s a flimsy lock that even I could probably pick, but a lock nonetheless, giving me
“Never took you for a whips and chains kinda girl,” he says after a few moments.
“I’ll try anything once,” I say with a nonchalant shrug. His eyes widen for a second, his interest evident.
“Is that right?” he asks, returning the reader to the side table.
“Sure. You only live once, right?” I say as I sit down next to him, leaning into his personal space.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks suspiciously, scooting away. I lift my hand and place it on his shoulder, ignoring his flinch when we make contact.
“You’re so tense,” I say as I sit up on my knees and start to massage his shoulders. He groans when my fingers find a knot, and I work it out with my thumb. He makes a noise deep in his throat that causes a tug in my lower belly and my heart to race.
He is masculine perfection.
And not meant for me.
I sigh, pulling my hands away, and sitting back on the bed in silence.
“Thanks,” he says, his voice slightly hoarse.
“Anytime,” I reply, meaning it.
“I’ll get you some breakfast.” He stands up from the bed, but doesn't leave.
“I’m going crazy in here, Devon,” I tell him, my tone wavering slightly.
He turns to face me, his eyes staring into mine. His hands clench into fists. “I can’t take you out, Leighton.” The regret in his tone confuses me.
“How long am I supposed to stay cooped up like this?” I ask, standing up and putting my hands on my hips.
He doesn't say anything, just looks at me, heaving a heavy sigh because we've been over this. I know it, but I'm not about to give up.
“I want pancakes for breakfast.” I decide to be difficult, narrowing my eyes at him, daring him to say no.
“Fine,” he grumbles, taking a step toward me, leaning in, his face just inches from mine. His eyes dance between my lips and my own eyes. For a second, for a terrifying and exciting second, I think he’s going to kiss me. I could help him. I could just close the small distance between us and finally taste his lips after all this time. I can see that he wants it, but he’s fighting it.
We stand like that for what could be mere seconds or maybe minutes, I don’t know. I can see it in his eyes when he decides not to do it, feel him retreating, stepping away from this situation as he always does. He backs away toward the door, his eyes still holding mine, pleading not to push him when he’s so close to snapping. My shoulders slump in defeat and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to hate him.
“Fuck,” he practically growls, and then I hear the door slamming. My finger flies to my lips, wishing I’d closed that space between us. I open my eyes and stare at the door, willing it to burst open and for him to barge in and just kiss the living daylights out of me.
But he doesn’t.
I know the two of us is the most ridiculous idea I’ve ever had. My dad would probably flip out at the thought of it, let alone if he found out it happened.
My hand falls limp by my side. He’s coming back soon and I need pull myself together, pretend I wasn’t burning up inside for him.
I tidy up my bed, and put all my dirty clothes in the laundry basket. I don’t know who washes my clothes, but Hayley takes them out. She even brought me a bag of new clothes the other day.
All designer.
Where is Hayley, anyway? I was actually getting a little fond of her.
I walk into the bathroom, stripping down to my birthday suit and turning on the shower. When it’s the perfect temperature I step in under the water. I frown at my prickly legs that really need to be shaved. Not like Devon is going to give me a razor.
I really think he overestimates me.
I dry my hair and my body, walking out into the room wrapped in a towel. A short, bald man stands next to my bed, leering at me. I scream, run back into the bathroom, and lock the door behind me. It’s a flimsy lock that even I could probably pick, but a lock nonetheless, giving me
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