Huh?
That sounded more like a g--
"Why the fuck are you in here?" A deep, hollow voice asks, with a thick accent edgeing his syllables. A cold tip of a barrel pressed against the back of my neck.
Gasping in shock, cool sweat beads around my neck as I lift my hands in surrender, "I-Im sorry! I didn't know this area was off limits!"
Slowly, very slowly I stand up straighter and turn around.
And then looked straight at the most beautiful man I've ever laid eyes on. Cazzo.
Heart be still.
Deep green forrest eyes stare back at me. The kind of green you would wake in the early morning of spring, the tall grass still dewy from the mist. Flecks of brown swirling in a pool like a lake filled with lilypads.
My eyes take in everything at this point.
A man in a wheelchair. He is at my height right now maybe a little taller which tells me if he were to stand he'd be very tall with those long legs, like 6'2 ft or something. Ignoring the fact that a gun is pointing straight at me, my eyes linger every inch of him. Admiring the two piece suit he is wearing, black on black, button down dress shirt beneath the lapels of his over coat is silky-smooth with a matte black tie. His over coat is matte black aswell and a deep grey velvet handkerchief in a small pocket. Dress shoes spotless while it gleams a sheen from the over head dim lighting of the library.
My God, a jawline that could cut a heart out. Eyebrows thick and prominent, complimenting his narrowing eyes. Causing shadows at his wake. Plush pink lips are full with a cute little indent on his bottom lip. Nose straight and pronounced sternly as if he could smell the fear from me right now.
Tanned skin that looks seasoned, reminding me of summer heat.
His hair, damn his hair is like prince charming. Dark midnight with a low light of blue hints in it. Cut a little short by the ears and longer on top. It curls a little, small trindles of hair laid atop his brows.
Gorgeous. Freaking unfair.
My heart needs to stop pounding.
1
Shit, are those veins on his hand?
2
Focus, Sienna, focus.
3
Did he say something to me before? If so, I don't remember.
4
Why does God have favorites? Or am I dreaming?
5
Come on, find a distraction!
Stop looking at him!
I cant...he has a gun aimed at my face, point blank may I add.
6
"Are you counting?"
My eyes widen as I shake my head profusely, sputtering words of not-so-endearing at first expressions, "uh, yes, um, no, well maybe."
ESTÀS LLEGINT
Stone Cold K*ller
Literatura romàntica(ENEMIES TO LOVERS BACK TO ENEMIES TO LOVERS) AGE GAP, GRUMPY/SUNSHINE He is a monster. The Devil. My nightmare. But I couldn't help but to fall and fall and fall. No body can trick a trickster like Nicolai Stone, the Pakhan of the Bratva. Sienna Ga...
chapter 5
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