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I’ve done nothing to hurt them—why do they want me?
"Great," I snap, burying my head in my pillow. "First, the Two Stooges drive me nuts with their terrible taste in podcasts. Now, my Scottish guard is trying to bang me."
"You’ll be mine, little one," the guard roars. "Wrap yer lips around my Scottish cock."
Only one thought brings peace to my soul—my mystery man.
Scrunching my eyes shut, I replay the wonderful meet cute we had in the Manhattan coffee shop.
He wasso sexy—I thought I’d cum in my pants that very second.
It wasn’t only his looks, though—the sense of protection that took hold of me was powerful.
With his prison tattoos and bulging muscles, he gave me the impression of a beast who’d do anything to protect hisbeloved.
I once read a book about a sexy ass Russian caveman who kidnapped a boy and forced him to be his live-in cave husband.
My mystery man reminds me of that smoking hot caveman.
"I'd be eternally grateful if he randomly showed up to save me," I drawl, holding Cloudy.
I claw back tears.
Sarcasm—and acting like nothing bothers me—is my chief defense mechanism.
When I was a boy and my mother would pass out on the sofa drunk as shit, as long as I treated it like it didn’t affect me, I was fine.
I’m glad I can pretend like this kidnapping is nothing but a big joke.
It happens before I can process it.
An explosion shakes my compound.
Boom.
The guard screams as machine gun fire cracks out.
"Ye put a bullet in the bagpipe of my heart," the guard roars.
A firm foot kicks down the dungeon door.
It crashes to the ground in a cloud of dust.
I lift my head from my pillow to see what the hell is going on.
This must be one of the two men who kidnapped me—there’s no other option.
But the stranger in all-black holding the enormous smoking machine gun doesn’t look like my abductors.
He’s strong. Giant. Covered in sexy tattoos.
His eyes lock on mine.
That’s when I know it’s him.
Medici
Someone must’ve drugged my coffee when I swung by the shop this morning on my way to rescue this angel.
