She sucks in a breath. “You don’t know how much I want that. How much I want to have a regular life. How much I want you. But I can’t stop running.”
Because she experienced more pain and subjugation than any woman should have to. Which meant I should leave her alone. Not send her on her way with only that shitty car. He should give her money and safe passage so that she could start a new life—free from the hard cocks and hungry eyes of men who would want her, men like me.
I should really let her go.
“I’ll keep you safe here,” I say instead.
She opens her mouth to tell me about the dangers. And I would hear them. Then I would fucking vanquish every last one of them. But first I need to do something. I’ve needed to do it since I first saw her sleepy blue eyes and beautiful face staring up from her car window.
I kiss her, a light brush, my lips against hers.
Like a question, asking her to stay with the words I haven’t yet spoken aloud. She’s wound up so tight, full of worry and fear, and I want to make her feel safe, to caress her body until she turns into a puddle of need and incoherent begging.
She makes me crazy, and once upon a time he had sought that out, wanting to feel wild and on edge. Not for a long time, though. These past years had been about isolation. About driving down dark country roads alone. And all along, he’d been looking for her. Without even knowing it, looking for her.
Her lips are swollen, her skin flushed. She’s so incredibly sensual that it makes my body ache. At least it would if I could look away from her eyes. They blaze as bright and as blue as a new day, full of hope. She’s radiant like this.
“Finn,” she murmurs.
“Jessica,” I say, leaning in for another kiss. “Nice to meet you.”
* * *
THANK YOU for reading Bedtime Story, the sexy modern retelling of Sleeping Beauty. I hope you loved Finn and Jessica as well as sweet little Ky! Turn the page for the next dangerous bedtime story…
MAFIA CINDERELLA
Skye Warren
One dress. One dance. Lucia has one chance to change her life—and the lives of her family. But Sebastian Conti is no prince charming. He’s a dangerous man. When the clock strikes midnight, he’ll determine her fate.
CHAPTER ONE
Once upon a time…
The crunch of tires on gravel yanks me from sleep.
My heart pounds like I woke up in the middle of a bad dream.
I scramble off the mat, the concrete freezing on my bare feet. An upturned crate gives me the boost I need to see through the one-foot-high window at ground level. Through the grime on the glass and the weeds outside, I can make out the silhouette of a car. A long black car.
A limousine.
My breath comes faster. How long has it been since I’ve seen a limo? I don’t remember ever seeing one, not specifically, but I must have since I know what it is. And my father was a wealthy man. A powerful man. I may have even ridden in a limo as a child.
The driver opens the door and a man steps out. Tall with broad shoulders. Dressed in a sharp black suit. Even from here I can make out the telltale ink scrawled on his hands, across his fingers. A dangerous man. Another man follows him out, slightly shorter but even more muscled. Protection? A subordinate?
Low voices travel through the cracks in the windowpane—undecipherable but enthralling all the same. I’ve seen very few men. Except for Jorge, but he’s more of a boy than a man. And a bully. These men are even bigger than him. How much will their slaps hurt? A backhand might break my jaw.
I should be afraid. I know how cruel men can be. The other women here whisper stories when they think I can’t hear. Memories from the whorehouses. Men are violent creatures. Animals wearing clothes.
But I know that women can be just as cruel.
The door slams open. Mercedes steps inside the small space, her hair bleached blonde, still pitch black at the roots. “There you are.”
I swallow hard, anxiety a thick knot in my throat. They lock me in every night. Where else would I be? Something must be wrong. Mercedes usually doesn’t show up until later. Usually it’s Jorge who lets us out of our rooms so we can start working. Jorge and his gun.
He’s watched me for years, hunger in his eyes. Every night I’m afraid he’ll step into my room. And every night he locks me inside, instead. Because he’s afraid of Margo and Mercedes. I don’t know how long that will keep him away.
“What’s happening?” I ask.
Is one of the women in trouble? Is Tia okay?
