Brutal Intentions by Lilith Vincent EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Book Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Fiction
- Edition Language: English
- Date of Publication: September 28, 2022
- File Format : PDF / EPUB
- PDF File Size: 2.2 MB
- EPUB File Size: 1.4 MB
Mia
I open my eyes, and a scream rises up my throat.
Every muscle in my body goes rigid and terror claws at my heart.
Please let this be a dream. A nightmare.
Directly in front of me is the floor-to-ceiling mirror on the front of my
wardrobe, and I stare into my own wide-eyed, terror-stricken reflection. My
cheek is pressed into the pillow and the white ruffled strap of my pajama
top has tumbled down. A shaft of silver moonlight falls across my
comforter, and the clock on my bedside table ticks out every agonizing
second. It’s nearly one in the morning. The witching hour?
More like the devil’s hour.
And the devil’s in my bed.
A large, muscular figure cloaked in darkness. He shifts with a sleepy
murmur and the sheer size of him rocks my whole body. His head is behind
mine on the pillow, and I can see little of him except for the dark, silky hair
falling across his forehead and the sleeve of his black T-shirt tight around
his muscular bicep.
This man is huge. Tall, and built like a linebacker. The first time I laid
eyes on him, I thought that he was uncomfortably, aggressively large, and I
still think that every time he walks into a room. I feel like I’m sharing this
usually generous bed with a nine-foot demon from hell. His body heat is
scorching the backs of my bare legs and my normally sweet-smelling
bedroom is filled with an invasive masculine scent.
I hate this man in the daylight, and I fear him at night. I can’t stand him
looking at me or even breathing near me, and I absolutely loathe the
sensation of his body brushing against mine. Every second of every day,
I’m trying to avoid his massive body in the kitchen or ignore the way he
glares at me across the dining table. The last place he should be is in my
bed. We’re not lovers.
We’re not even friends.
Lazzaro Rosetti is Mom’s twenty-nine-year-old husband, a grade-A
asshole, and my new stepfather.
I angle my chin up and sniff the air, trying to catch the scent of alcohol,
which might explain why the hell Lazzaro has mistaken my bedroom for
the one he shares with Mom, but there’s nothing but the aroma of his
cologne. I say “shares,” but my new stepfather is unpredictable, coming in
and out of the house at all hours of the day and night. He’s more like a
restless animal than a man. Sometimes I catch him sleeping on the sofa or
on a deck chair out by the pool.
One morning last week, he was sleeping on
the living room floor, and I stepped over him on my way to the kitchen.
Lazzaro came suddenly alive, grabbing my ankle and refusing to let go as I
squealed and tried to shake him off. His grip was an iron manacle, and his
green eyes flashed with malice. All the while, he was grinning like this was
a game to him.
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