Restraining The Receptionist: ... The Receptionist, Book 2 (2011) - Plot & Excerpts
the Receptionist, Book 2 Chapter Eight I collapsed onto the carpet. No matter how mad I was at Ethan, no matter what a twisted bastard he was, the man had good timing. Not that I could really see him. I only caught glimpses as he went after the Woodfield Group like a tornado out for revenge. A punch here, a whirling kick there, a few lashes with the belt, and suddenly he was lifting me up in his arms. No longer icy, his blue eyes burned like the heart of a flame. “Are you okay?” I clung to him. I wanted nothing more than to disappear into his arms. “I should have known not to drink that margarita. I’m a vodka tonic girl.” His chest rumbled with a chuckle. I peered around his arm at the wreckage of the room. The four men lay sprawled every which way, groaning and moaning. The leader’s pants had been ripped at the seat by the force of Ethan’s lashing. But the man shot Ethan a feral frown. “It’s safe to say our firm will be going in a different direction.” “Yep.
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