Romance: My Bear Boss: BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance (BBW Shifter Romance, Paranormal Shifter Romance) by Ashley Hunter Read Free Book Online
Authors: Ashley Hunter
would need to work on this quickly.
This wasn’t something she had done before, but she knew the theory well enough. Supposedly, it wasn’t too difficult, and given enough tinkering, Ingrid would probably be able to find a way out of the cuffs.
Hopefully, she would do it fast enough to secure her freedom before her captor discovered her awake.
Pushing her legs from the sheets, Ingrid threw a cautious glance over toward the door at the far end of the room. There was no telling how late it was, and how much time she had. All she hoped was that there was enough.
With concentrated breaths, Ingrid tried to control the shaking of her fingertips to keep from dropping the bobby pin as she tried to find the cuff’s keyhole.
Even though the lighting was dim, it wasn’t dim enough for her to fail to spot the little hole. With some determination, she stuffed the curved end of the bobby pin into its slot and began to fiddle.
To her chagrin, the shaking of her fingers and the gathering sweat over her fingertips was more than enough for the pin to handle before it slid from her grip.
With a muffled curse, Ingrid tried to chase the fallen pin down the side of the bed, but her wrists met biting metal before they could catch the wayward hairpiece.
“Nonono—no, come on!” Ingrid hissed, before she brought her legs to press against the floor. Her toes touched over a ruffled sort of rug before she began to search with her feet.
Whispering encouraging words to herself, Ingrid wedged her foot between the bed and the nearby nightstand.
Her search proved fruitless after a long while of pressing and wiggling her toes and with a grunt, she ducked her head down low again to find another pin in her hair.
Before she could even hope to find anything else, the doorknob suddenly turned before the door slid open, bringing in a cascading trail of golden light through.
Ingrid squeaked, scrambling away from the side of the bed and further against the wall behind the pillows. Eyes wide, she found the figure now strolling through the room, staring without blinking at the sillhouette against the light outside.
“You’re awake,” she heard and the voice made her tremble.
“Who…” She began but trailed off, losing her nerve quickly when she saw the figure approach her side of the bed.
She pulled away, cursing inwardly when her wrists were tugged against that corner of the bed. She knew it was him. She could never forget his voice. Not after what she had seen.
He bent down, his hands reaching over the nightstand and finding a lamp sitting innocently over its surface.
Gold light erupted from the bulb within a translucent glass holder, making Ingrid blink away stars. When her vision stabilized, she finally glanced up, and regretted ever doing such a thing.
She had hoped he was ugly, she had believed him to be hideous in the moments when she had seen him kill that other man. Because truly no human who could commit such a heinous act could ever be beautiful.
But her chest felt tight with deep disdain when she recognized that this man—this murderer—was not just handsome, but truly beautiful. He had a strong jaw, and it held to a face so well structured that its ruggedness surprised her.
There was nothing ugly about him. Not even a deformity, or mark, that made him look remotely evil.
Ingrid didn’t know what was more horrible, the fact that such a beautiful person could ever do something so awful as murder, or the fact that such beauty could grace someone so vile enough to consider the act.
“Who are you?” He spoke and she gave a start, just realizing that she had been staring at him.
Taking the words out of her mouth, Ingrid felt even more robbed.
The simple reminder made her angry, made her snap out of her daze to glare vehemently at him.
“I should be the one asking you that,” She snapped.
“Not you. Where am I? Why did you bring me here?”
He gave her a half-smirk that disappeared as quickly as it came, “You’re
This wasn’t something she had done before, but she knew the theory well enough. Supposedly, it wasn’t too difficult, and given enough tinkering, Ingrid would probably be able to find a way out of the cuffs.
Hopefully, she would do it fast enough to secure her freedom before her captor discovered her awake.
Pushing her legs from the sheets, Ingrid threw a cautious glance over toward the door at the far end of the room. There was no telling how late it was, and how much time she had. All she hoped was that there was enough.
With concentrated breaths, Ingrid tried to control the shaking of her fingertips to keep from dropping the bobby pin as she tried to find the cuff’s keyhole.
Even though the lighting was dim, it wasn’t dim enough for her to fail to spot the little hole. With some determination, she stuffed the curved end of the bobby pin into its slot and began to fiddle.
To her chagrin, the shaking of her fingers and the gathering sweat over her fingertips was more than enough for the pin to handle before it slid from her grip.
With a muffled curse, Ingrid tried to chase the fallen pin down the side of the bed, but her wrists met biting metal before they could catch the wayward hairpiece.
“Nonono—no, come on!” Ingrid hissed, before she brought her legs to press against the floor. Her toes touched over a ruffled sort of rug before she began to search with her feet.
Whispering encouraging words to herself, Ingrid wedged her foot between the bed and the nearby nightstand.
Her search proved fruitless after a long while of pressing and wiggling her toes and with a grunt, she ducked her head down low again to find another pin in her hair.
Before she could even hope to find anything else, the doorknob suddenly turned before the door slid open, bringing in a cascading trail of golden light through.
Ingrid squeaked, scrambling away from the side of the bed and further against the wall behind the pillows. Eyes wide, she found the figure now strolling through the room, staring without blinking at the sillhouette against the light outside.
“You’re awake,” she heard and the voice made her tremble.
“Who…” She began but trailed off, losing her nerve quickly when she saw the figure approach her side of the bed.
She pulled away, cursing inwardly when her wrists were tugged against that corner of the bed. She knew it was him. She could never forget his voice. Not after what she had seen.
He bent down, his hands reaching over the nightstand and finding a lamp sitting innocently over its surface.
Gold light erupted from the bulb within a translucent glass holder, making Ingrid blink away stars. When her vision stabilized, she finally glanced up, and regretted ever doing such a thing.
She had hoped he was ugly, she had believed him to be hideous in the moments when she had seen him kill that other man. Because truly no human who could commit such a heinous act could ever be beautiful.
But her chest felt tight with deep disdain when she recognized that this man—this murderer—was not just handsome, but truly beautiful. He had a strong jaw, and it held to a face so well structured that its ruggedness surprised her.
There was nothing ugly about him. Not even a deformity, or mark, that made him look remotely evil.
Ingrid didn’t know what was more horrible, the fact that such a beautiful person could ever do something so awful as murder, or the fact that such beauty could grace someone so vile enough to consider the act.
“Who are you?” He spoke and she gave a start, just realizing that she had been staring at him.
Taking the words out of her mouth, Ingrid felt even more robbed.
The simple reminder made her angry, made her snap out of her daze to glare vehemently at him.
“I should be the one asking you that,” She snapped.
“Not you. Where am I? Why did you bring me here?”
He gave her a half-smirk that disappeared as quickly as it came, “You’re
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