The Great Disapurrance: BBW Shapeshifter Surprise Pregnancy Romance (Chicago Catastrophe) Read Online Free
Author: Anya Nowlan, Rory Dale
behind her.
That familiar jolt of annoyance shot through her again. He never called her by her first name. She didn’t recall telling him that it was okay and if Holland was anything then he was a stickler for manners. The fact that he’d thrown those out of the window made her anger mix with trepidation.
She knew she was screwed, but was not quite ready yet to face the music.
Sienna tried pushing past his guard dogs, but it was like struggling against a wall. The men grabbed her and whirled her around with a speed that made her head spin. She was little more than a rag doll to them.
Holland was already standing in front of her, gun aimed at her head. Where he got it from, she had no idea.
Does he just have them lying around all over the place?
If so, she would have to get her hands on one. It didn’t change the fact that her heart was in her throat now and she was staring down the barrel, eyes wide.
She was a massage therapist, for god’s sake, not a gangster. The amount of guns she’d seen lately was not okay.
“Go sit down before I lose my temper,” he growled.
Every cell in Sienna’s body was urging her to argue, but there was something about being faced with a very real threat to her life and safety that kicked her survival instincts into gear.
“Fine,” she ground out, shaking Bill and Logan’s hands off of her in a huff.
“Good girl.”
Holland lowered his gun, his expression as deadpan as before. Not an ounce of a grin, or any real annoyance. It was like he was going through the motions, with something standing over him and sucking all of the fun out of it. Though how much fun there was in terrorizing people Sienna couldn’t really understand.
“I have a room set up for you. You will stay here until further notice. Don’t start any trouble and we’ll get along just fine.”
You must not know me very well, Sienna thought, fuming.
Four
Sienna
D ays dragged on as Sienna had to get accustomed to her new life of being Holland’s in-house masseuse. The room he put her up in was nice, but no amount of amenities could make her forget she was a prisoner.
She was only allowed to leave the house to give massages to other members of the Crimson Claws, and was always accompanied by either Bill or Logan when she did. Holland was trading sessions with her for favors from other high-ranking Claws goons, and she was beginning to be in high demand.
Who knew the mob liked massages so much?
And ones without happy endings, at that , she thought dryly.
Not that they hadn’t asked. But after practically elbowing a guy in the crotch for it – by accident, of course – the requests had not too surprisingly stopped.
To get over the indignity of essentially being a massage prostitute with no free will of her own, Sienna resorted to petty acts of vengeance. She couldn’t lie, she was taking way too much pleasure in those.
“Oops,” she said, wide-eyed, after spilling a glass of red wine on one of the couches in Holland’s living room.
“How did that happen?” she asked, feigning innocence after a mysterious clog in the drain, consisting of rolled up tissues, resulted in a flooded bathroom.
“I’m so clumsy,” she smiled, after knocking over a vase in the lobby.
Sienna knew her actions did little more than annoy Holland, but she so enjoyed watching that little blood vessel near his temple throb as yet another glass or plate slipped out of her fingers and shattered on the floor. Holland liked his things the way he liked them and it was that reason which made it so fun to mess with him.
“I must still have massage oil on my hands,” she shrugged, batting her eyes at Holland, who was seated on the couch after the vase incident.
Holland got up slowly, his cold eyes fixing on Sienna in a way that made her gulp. It looked like his patience had finally run out. Her eyes flicked side to side, looking for a way out, or something to defend herself with. Ultimately, she knew it was pointless.
Just
That familiar jolt of annoyance shot through her again. He never called her by her first name. She didn’t recall telling him that it was okay and if Holland was anything then he was a stickler for manners. The fact that he’d thrown those out of the window made her anger mix with trepidation.
She knew she was screwed, but was not quite ready yet to face the music.
Sienna tried pushing past his guard dogs, but it was like struggling against a wall. The men grabbed her and whirled her around with a speed that made her head spin. She was little more than a rag doll to them.
Holland was already standing in front of her, gun aimed at her head. Where he got it from, she had no idea.
Does he just have them lying around all over the place?
If so, she would have to get her hands on one. It didn’t change the fact that her heart was in her throat now and she was staring down the barrel, eyes wide.
She was a massage therapist, for god’s sake, not a gangster. The amount of guns she’d seen lately was not okay.
“Go sit down before I lose my temper,” he growled.
Every cell in Sienna’s body was urging her to argue, but there was something about being faced with a very real threat to her life and safety that kicked her survival instincts into gear.
“Fine,” she ground out, shaking Bill and Logan’s hands off of her in a huff.
“Good girl.”
Holland lowered his gun, his expression as deadpan as before. Not an ounce of a grin, or any real annoyance. It was like he was going through the motions, with something standing over him and sucking all of the fun out of it. Though how much fun there was in terrorizing people Sienna couldn’t really understand.
“I have a room set up for you. You will stay here until further notice. Don’t start any trouble and we’ll get along just fine.”
You must not know me very well, Sienna thought, fuming.
Four
Sienna
D ays dragged on as Sienna had to get accustomed to her new life of being Holland’s in-house masseuse. The room he put her up in was nice, but no amount of amenities could make her forget she was a prisoner.
She was only allowed to leave the house to give massages to other members of the Crimson Claws, and was always accompanied by either Bill or Logan when she did. Holland was trading sessions with her for favors from other high-ranking Claws goons, and she was beginning to be in high demand.
Who knew the mob liked massages so much?
And ones without happy endings, at that , she thought dryly.
Not that they hadn’t asked. But after practically elbowing a guy in the crotch for it – by accident, of course – the requests had not too surprisingly stopped.
To get over the indignity of essentially being a massage prostitute with no free will of her own, Sienna resorted to petty acts of vengeance. She couldn’t lie, she was taking way too much pleasure in those.
“Oops,” she said, wide-eyed, after spilling a glass of red wine on one of the couches in Holland’s living room.
“How did that happen?” she asked, feigning innocence after a mysterious clog in the drain, consisting of rolled up tissues, resulted in a flooded bathroom.
“I’m so clumsy,” she smiled, after knocking over a vase in the lobby.
Sienna knew her actions did little more than annoy Holland, but she so enjoyed watching that little blood vessel near his temple throb as yet another glass or plate slipped out of her fingers and shattered on the floor. Holland liked his things the way he liked them and it was that reason which made it so fun to mess with him.
“I must still have massage oil on my hands,” she shrugged, batting her eyes at Holland, who was seated on the couch after the vase incident.
Holland got up slowly, his cold eyes fixing on Sienna in a way that made her gulp. It looked like his patience had finally run out. Her eyes flicked side to side, looking for a way out, or something to defend herself with. Ultimately, she knew it was pointless.
Just
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