Forbidden Confessions:: Protectors by Shayla Black

Author:Shayla Black [Black, Shayla]
Language: eng
Format: epub

Fifteen minutes later, I’m speeding down the wet highway west to Summerlin. The roads are freaking jammed. Then again, it’s a Saturday night in Las Vegas. The partiers and drunks are coming out of the woodwork. The good thing about that is, if anyone looks into my vehicle and sees Ransom propped up in the passenger’s seat, he’ll either look asleep or wasted. Neither is terribly abnormal in Sin City at ten p.m.

The GPS tells me we’ll be at Ethan’s mystery destination in roughly ten minutes. I keep looking in the rearview mirror, but I don’t think we were tailed. I’ve been on the lookout. A clean getaway would make me feel tons better, just like Ransom’s coloring returning.

He looks a lot like he did the day I left his house, except now he’s unconscious, rather than fighting himself and filled with regret.

If you stay, I’ll stop giving a damn how old you are. I’ll strip you down, get between your pretty thighs, and fuck you until you understand you’re mine.

A day hasn’t gone by since that I haven’t thought about Ransom…and wondered if he still thinks of me.

“Meow,” Shadow whines from the backseat, sitting on Ransom’s discarded duster that’s concealing the handguns once strapped to him.

I probably shouldn’t have brought the little feline along. If her owner comes back, I’ll get in a ton of trouble for taking her, but she cried and cried as Ethan and I were loading up my car. I didn’t have the heart to leave her there, especially after I’d promised to be her human. Besides, she brings me comfort, too.

And since I’m going to spend days alone with Ransom at an isolated party pad? I think I’ll need it.

Finally, we arrive. I punch in the gate code, half expecting it not to budge. After all, how the hell does Ethan have anytime access to a place in this swanky neighborhood? But the gate swings open right away.

I drive down a gentle hill before hitting a stone access road, then coasting under a collection of swaying palms. The house in front of me is huge, all Mediterranean plaster, stacked stone, and wood accents. It’s jaw-droppingly beautiful.

We’re staying here for a few days? Alone?

As the gate shuts behind me, I follow the stone drive around the back of the house, hop out when I see the keypad beside the garage door, tap in the code, and watch as it, too, opens to reveal a giant, empty garage.

Once I’m parked inside, I scoop up the bag of medical supplies I tossed together and the kitten, then head into the house.

It’s vast and dark. My footsteps echo on the tile. It feels empty, as if no one has been here in a while. But if the walls could talk, I’m pretty sure the conversation would be damn interesting.

I meander down a hall, through an enormous living room, then into the kitchen, flipping on lights along the way, then set the bag on a giant square island in the gorgeous warm-wood kitchen.

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