Page 25 of Savage Don

Forcing myself to take a deep breath, I try to steady my racing mind. But it doesn’t work. The world is still swirling as the door is slowly pushed open.

Still, even through all the chaos, I can make out the soft orange glow that spills into the room as the door is pushed aside.

I can also make out the giant silhouette that steps in through the doorway.

The sight makes my heart stop.

Whatever hope my subconscious had for a happy ending is gone. I’m not at Janice’s place. I’m not at some hotel.

This is a stranger.

Last night, I got blackout drunk. This morning, I’m waking up in the bed of a man who blocks out the light as he steps inside the dark room.

I can’t see his face, but I can feel him staring at me. That gaze is so powerful it makes me want to implode.

But there’s nowhere to go. I can’t even hide inward.

“You’re up,” the voice states, deep and rumbling. Somehow, I feel like I should recognize it. “How are you feeling?”

The question catches me off guard. My entire world is still threatening to turn upside down as I open my lips and try to respond. But only a hoarse cough trickles out of my dry throat.

“That’s what I figured,” the deep voice says, and I can practically hear the smile on his face. “There’s some water on your nightstand. You should drink it.”

The door shuts behind the giant shadow and the little bit of light from the hallways disappears just as I look over to the side of my bed. It takes a second for my eyes to adjust again, but when they do, I spot a blurry glass on the nightstand. Behind it, there’s a silver pitcher.

I can practically taste the crisp, refreshing water inside.

All of my dread and pain take a backseat as I slowly lean forward and grab the glass. Fuck. The water is so fresh it almost hurts going down my raw and tender throat as I gulp it down.

Still, the second I finish the first glass, I’m ready to pour another. My body isn’t quite ready to keep up with my thirst though, and I nearly spill the entire pitcher because I’m too weak to pick it up on my own.

“Easy there, little lady,” the deep voice teases as the giant shadow lunges forward to keep me from spilling everywhere. One hand cups the silver pitcher while the other wraps around my tiny wrist.

That’s all it takes for me to realize who this is.

The rugged warmth of his fingers is unmistakable.

Ray.

The mysterious older man from last night. His touch is what got me into this mess in the first place. Without the fire he awoke in me, I might have never even considered risking everything just for the off chance that I might meet some stupid boy who looked half as good as him.

But I was horny and hot, and it had all started from his touch.

I remember that now.

And just like that, I also remember everything else. Like how I don’t know where I am, or what happened to me last night.

Was I drugged? Kidnapped? Why am I in a strange bedroom, being looked after by a man who appeared in my life from out of the shadows?

My heart drops and my aching gut churns as I try to tug my wrist out of his grip. But it’s no use. He’s too strong, and he’s not letting me go anywhere.

“What… what’s happening?” I croak, my throat still dry and cracking.

“You were drugged,” Ray says, his sharp features becoming clearer as I peer through the darkness.

My pulse quickens as I see those dark eyes again. This time, I make a point of checking his wrists.

This is no professor.