Live For You: A Dark Post-Apocalyptic Romance (Catastrophe Series Book 3) by Michele Mills

Author:Michele Mills [Mills, Michele]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-06-06T16:00:00+00:00

9

The next three days were pretty hellish.

Raider slept next to her in bed each night, with both of them handcuffed together, his large body wrapped around hers. The first night, when he’d clicked the set of cuffs around her wrist and his too, she’d sucked in a sharp breath, having a hard time believing he was going that far.

He’d raised an eyebrow, daring her to question him.

She’d kept her mouth shut because she didn’t have a death wish.

He always let her go pee before they got into bed and he cuffed them together. Then he held her tight in his arms as they fell asleep, his erection pressed against her ass. And yet he didn’t act on it. He didn’t fuck her like he usually did—a minimum of three times a day. He didn’t touch her beyond that safety cuddle at night, which she supposed was only because that way he knew where she was while he slept.

And the most embarrassing part was she missed him terribly. Missed his tongue in her mouth and that wince of pain as he slid his meaty cock into her wet, aching core.

And his words. She missed his conversation. The deep rumble of his voice. He wasn’t fucking her or talking to her. She was being given the silent treatment. No more yelling, just nothing at all.

On the first day of this shut down she’d been relieved, thinking she’d finally gotten what she’d been asking for—this guy who’d kidnapped her finally leaving her alone. But she found herself staring at his ass, at his big rough hands, longing for the sound of his deep voice. And when you lived on a planet with hardly any people, with the very real possibility of being left alone, having the one person you were living with not talking to you—the silent treatment was even harder to take than normal. Having a person to talk to and count on was precious now. Every life counted.

And worst of all, there were no more spa-like couple baths on the porch. He didn’t pull her onto his lap and feed her breakfast, just efficiently switched from cuffs to leg restraint and handed her a spoon to use. Then he took his own food outside and sat on the porch alone while he ate.

Crap, she must’ve actually hurt him when she’d run off.

The huge mountain man with all the tats…could be hurt? He had a heart down there somewhere?

And she mulled over again and again on what he’d said about his position in the compound. This whole time she’d thought he’d been one of Smith’s right-hand men, an evil asshole who was a breath away from showing his true colors and switching from Dr. Jekyll into Mr. Hyde. After all, he had her chained up, wasn’t that proof enough of his future intentions? And yet, he…wasn’t evil? He’d been undercover there, trying to help the captured women?

Apparently before the end he’d been a deputy sheriff.

Hmm.

This was important news.

She was still pissed to be handcuffed and restrained.

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