Silence was her only answer. She moved toward the window, peering down. “Did he leave?”
Just as she was about to turn away, she felt the cold touch of a gun against her back. Hannah froze, her body tensing up.
In the darkness, Bryson’s voice took on a menacing tone. “Just a routine check, Miss Moore.”
“What is it you’re after, Bryson?” Hannah’s patience was wearing thin.
Just then, the gun moved down to a more vulnerable spot, making Hannah’s knees buckle.
Bryson’s chuckle, right next to her ear, sent a shiver down her spine. “I’m after you,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin.
“Bryson Mitchell!”
Hannah’s voice rose, frustration clear in her tone as she realized he was twisting her words.
‘s
“Let go of me!”
But before she could resist, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight against the window.
The cold glass pressed against her bare shoulders made her shiver.
Drops of water from Bryson’s hair fell on her neck, and the warmth from his body seeped through his shirt to her skin. He held her firmly between him and the window.
The dampness of her clothes began to warm up quickly. Instinctively, Hannah tried to pull away, but Bryson caught her chin, forcing her to face him and his ki*s.
After a moment, Hannah’s head spun, her thoughts blurred by the rising heat from Bryson’s embrace.
Bryson intensified his ki*s, his hands moving wildly.
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He slid the gun from Hannah’s waist down toward her thigh. Hannah squirmed, desperately trying to turn her head away.
She exclaimed, “Enough! Stop it, Bryson.”
“It’s not enough.”
Bryson was clearly annoyed by her resistance.
Slowly, the zipper on the back of her dress began to descend. Hannah reached up to halt his progress, but in the next moment, he lifted her into his arms.
“Bryson!”
As she called out his name, he placed her on the soft bed.
Hannah tried to sit up, but Bryson effortlessly held her shoulder down.
“I really don’t like that name.”