And There He Kept Her A Novel Novels & Stories

Her boldness… the way she’d taken control, her hips rolling in my lap, the whispered slurred “I’m damn good at what I do.” Fuck… I hadn’t been able to get her out of my head since Friday, I didn’t even know her name. She’d been a ghost, a beautiful secret that vanished with the sunrise. I’d woken up alone in the lounge. She left behind a flowery scrunchie on the floor which I’d pocketed like a fool. “Mr. Thorne, are you listening?” she asked pointedly, adjusting her glasses. “What?…” I blinked, dragging my gaze from the doorframe to her unamused face.

In his room. She turned and looked around. Everything in the room whispered memories of her. The soft scent of her old perfume still lingered in the air. Her pictures—some slightly faded, some new—still sat proudly on his shelves. Her lost earrings, a scarf, and even an old book lay untouched, as if time froze the moment she walked out. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Even after everything, he didn’t throw them away. He kept them... like pieces of her he couldn’t part with.

she has people doing all the killings or shall I say teaching all those that go astray a lesson. Men did not know her, but they feared even the mention of her name, they call her the wife, none of them knew her real name just as the wife. Money was picked up from her once in two weeks, her share was sent to a bank account for her. she has a laptop and a phone. She had to keep records of the stock, what was sold, was remaining and how much will be needed.

"How do you know men come closer like this?" He asked as she gulped. She had to negotiate the matters to get out of his hold. Her heart was readily pumping inside her chest and so was her body for him but her mind was denying or it was the shy girl inside her keeping her away from letting him complete his game. "I r-read a n-novel." She told as he shook his head in amazement. "Did that man you read about was good or bad? Should they have to do this act you read from the novel repeatedly?" He teased as he caressed her button nose with his.

At some point in the long middle -- she had lost precise track of hours, which was unusual for her, but she had decided to allow it -- she said, without any particular occasion: Do you know what was in the notebook's fourth section? He looked at her. No. She had kept it for sixty days. She had said it once, to a train window, in the dark. She had not said it to him. The word was mate, she said. I read it on day forty-four. I did not say it aloud for sixty days after that.

I replied. She stopped in front of me, her gaze softening just a little before she reached out, holding something in her hand. “This is for you,” she said. I looked down. A necklace. Simple, yet elegant. I lifted my gaze back to her. “What is it?” I asked quietly. She stepped closer, lifting her hands to place it around my neck, her fingers brushing lightly against my skin as she secured it in place. “It will help us track your location if anything goes wrong,” she said softly.

Even in the escape room, she mistook me for him. I thought then, fine. If I have to play the villain who cuts in and steals her heart, then so be it. She ran home afterward. Didn’t speak to me. Didn’t look at me. She didn’t like me. But my head was full of her. Every hour. Every night. Even the night she caught me with her clothes in my hands—her shocked “brother” almost killed me. My company had only begun to grow, but her life had always needed the best.

The pausing was still reaching. He looked at the page on the laptop screen. He said: Put it in the book. She said: It is already in the book. He said: Keep it in the book. She said: I will.

ARES Flipping to the next page was interesting. I was invested in the novel. The protagonist was crazy and it excited me. I kept itching to know what would happen next. I had made sure to ignore every call so I could finish the novel, but that didn't last for long all because of one person. Her scent flooded my thoughts the second she opened the door and it was stronger. I could swear she has gotten her wolf back. “Are you lost, sweetheart?” I asked, without taking my eyes from the book.