Thrive Read Online Free PDF Page B

silver watch and hand-tousled hair added to the look – he was a dark, powerfully seductive god.
    “No,” he replied, earning a sway from the receptionist. “We have two separate rooms and we need to collect our things and check out.”
    “Okay, go ahead and clear your rooms, and we’ll check you out when you’re done.”
    Curtis nodded, thanked her for her assistance – no doubt initiating thoughts in the pretty brunette’s head of other ways she could assist him, and he steered me towards the lifts. A car arrived almost immediately and we stepped inside.
    “Wouldn’t it be quicker if I went and got my things while you get yours?” I asked, sensing my chance slipping away from me.
    “No.” His fingers flexed against my back. It sent a spark rippling up my spine and resulted in a sigh escaping my lips. “I’m not risking it.”
    “Risking what?” My voice was shaky, unable to conceal the fear that I’d been caught.
    “Phil.”
    One word. One name. The reminder of why we were here, in this situation, and why I had to get out.
    We stepped out of the lift and crossed the hallway to Curtis’ suite. He swiped the keycard in the lock and we entered the room. I kept my back to the closed door and tried to hatch a plan while I watched Curtis gather up his few belongings and shove them into a bag already set out on the bed.
     
    ***
    I moved around the room, hyperaware of Curtis’ eyes on me as I collected up my clothes and folded them up before placing them in my suitcase slowly, to buy me some time.
    “Where is everyone?” He asked, scanning the lodge.
    “Beth arranged a day of clay pigeon shooting before she and Jack leave for their honeymoon.” I closed the case and pinched the zip. “Can you go into the living area and grab my jacket, please?”
    He backed out of the room with a nod. “What does it look like?”
    “Black leather. It’s on the stand in the corner by the TV.”
    He turned on his heels and when I heard his heavy footsteps on the wooden floor, I made a run for it. I grabbed my bunny from under my pillow, slung my bag over my shoulder and pulled my case behind me as I ran from the room. I threw myself out the front door, dragging my case along the lawn and ran as fast as I could.
    A strong arm snaked around my waist as I made it to the threshold of the garden, and pulled me to an abrupt stop. I hadn’t heard him chasing after me, but I felt Curtis’ warm breath against my neck as he pulled my body roughly back into his and spoke gruffly in my ear.
    “Why are you running, Skye?”
    His other arm reached out in front of me and he dropped my jacket to the floor by my feet. His arm closed around me, caging me in. I felt my pulse racing, but the roaring in my ears, of fear and arousal, couldn’t block out his voice.
    “I’m trying really hard to be gentle with you.” He spoke softly, but his chest was tense, rising and falling heavily against my back; his face was set like stone, his teeth grazing my ear. “Why are you running away, Skillet?”
    “Don’t call me that,” I growled. “I don’t want to stay with you. You can't hold me against my will.”
    “I’ll do whatever the hell I want.” My stomach tightened at his rough tone and a desperate whimper left me, stealing my composure. “You don’t want me, Skillet?”
    He hands slid lower, resting on my belly and holding me tighter. That word, that fucking name, made me want to scream; to claw and thrash and bite. I tried, but he held me still, stopping me from putting up a fight. I wanted to fight back, to hurt; I wanted to inflict an unmeasurable amount of pain on Cut Throat fucking Curtis.
    “No.”
    “Oh, baby.” His hand slipped between my legs and held me with a firm grip. My hips rolled involuntarily into him as my legs squeezed around his wrist. “Your body is telling a different story.”
    “Curtis, please. People will see us.”
    “You don’t want an audience?”
    He yanked me backwards, pulling me towards the