“It was clear I had two choices: get in myself or be drugged into submission.” She glanced away again, pursing her lips for a moment before continuing. “That guy. He, uh… He intended to rape me. At least he said he did. As I curled up in the trunk, he chuckled. I’ll never forget that sound. A deep cackling tone. Mean. And he clapped the other guy on the back and said, ‘Thanks for moving her for me. It’ll be so much sweeter fucking her tight pussy in a more private location.’”
“Jesus,” Mikhail muttered, unable to stop himself. In fact, he asked the next question before Taylor had a chance. “What did that fucker look like?”
Haley turned to face him, and then her face dipped toward her lap. “Short also. Stalky. Muscles like yours, though. But he was older. Maybe mid-forties. Gray receding hairline. His accent was Russian.”
Mikhail gritted his teeth.
That mother fucking son of a bitch.
Anton Yenin.
Hartwood Publishing delights in introducing authors and stories that open eyes, encourage thought, and resonate in the hearts of our readers.
Table of Contents
Clinch by Becca Jameson
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Epilogue
About the Author
If you enjoyed this book, this author has other works available here:
Chapter One
Hartwood Publishing delights in introducing authors and stories that open eyes, encourage thought, and resonate in the hearts of our readers.
Clinch Page 28