Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 16084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 80(@200wpm)___ 64(@250wpm)___ 54(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 80(@200wpm)___ 64(@250wpm)___ 54(@300wpm)
“Baby Doll. I get it now.” Raising a hand up to her chest, I can see her shivering in anticipation. Like she wants me to move the extra inch to grab hold of her and give in to my base desires. Not yet, Baby Doll. Instead, I wave my hand over her cleavage and speak. “I’m guessing this fits in with the naughtier way, then? To make sure all eyes are on you?”
“Maybe.” Now I know she’s blushing from her squeaking alone. “But what if I said there’s only one pair I’m hoping to hold?”
“Then, I’d repeat what I said earlier.” I take a quick swig from my bottle to build some dramatic tension. “You’re in luck, Baby Doll. Because they’re locked on you, and they might never look away again. How could I? Tight ass, sexy body, the creepy pale porcelain that lights up your eyes. I’m not convinced I didn’t die out there, and we’re not in heaven right now.”
“I can tell you for a fact that we aren’t . . .” She cuts herself off, taking a play from my book. Drawing out the moment as long as she can. Balancing it on a knife’s razor-sharp edge until I want to beg for the rest. “Not yet.”
Two words is all it takes for my world to come crushing down around me.
4
TAYLOR
We finish two rounds of drinks, dancing to the same beat of edging into flirtation and withdrawing to normalcy. The Cowboy’s playing it cool, taking his time. Not from nerves, that much became clear when he spoke about my body.
No, his approach comes from wanting to make getting to know each other more than small talk. He’s turning the mundane into a spectacle. Slipping and sliding in different directions, but one of us always manages to get back on track. To the evenings end. Where he, and I, will join in divine ecstasy.
No point in denying it, not to myself, or him. Those sails have set and float further into the horizon.
“Can I ask you something, Cowboy?”
His head tilts down and bright eyes meet mine, pleased with how I address him. “You just did. Might as well do it again.”
Smirking at his cocky response, I slip my hand onto his thigh. Partly to gauge his response to things moving a little further, mostly because I can’t seem to keep my hands off of him. I started feeling this way the second he came into view in the alleyway. Felt my bodies primal urges barking and howling out for him. My fingers reaching out delicately and latching on tight.
Not sure what it is about him, but there’s a connection that I can’t explain in words. Like we’re kindred spirits, bound by some unknown, cosmic force, fated to be right here, right now.
Silly as it might sound, I’m almost certain he feels the same. I can see it in his eyes. How his steely gaze can’t manage to break away from me for longer than a few seconds. Stealing naughty glances at my body when he thinks I’m not looking. Or better still, he knows I am and doesn’t care.
He wants me to notice his intrigue, his affection, his lust.
Whatever the case, it’s working.
Too freaking well.
“I get that you came up to help me, and I appreciate it tremendously,” I start. The Cowboy’s eyes narrow and harden as I speak, as if he doesn’t like where I’m steering the conversation. “But weren’t you afraid of what might happen to you out there?” I finish quickly, so he doesn’t get the wrong impression.
This isn’t an attempt to get away from him, but one to understand him better instead.
I’ve already gotten under his skin, now I want to get inside his mind.
“I wasn’t,” he says simply. “I’m no stranger to taking a hit. It’s gonna take a lot more than some wannabe tough guy to scare me.”
“What if he had a gun?” Until tonight, I’ve lived a cautious, sheltered life. Heard stories on TV and from friends and family about how everyone’s carrying a gun these days, and it’s best to co-operate rather than instigate.
Then there’s my Cowboy, complete opposite to me in every way. A careless, carefree, risk taker.
“What if I have one?”
“Fair point,” I say, but the thought of him carrying a weapon doesn’t scare me as much as it probably should. As it would have earlier tonight, had he not swooped in to save me from disaster.
In fact, I think I kind of like it, the thrill and danger of wading through these unchartered territories.
His gaze remains stern, but there’s an odd caution in the way his eyes flick between mine and over my doll-faced mask. As if he’s studying me for the best response before he speaks again.
“Unjust cruelty,” he says, placing his hand atop the one I have on his leg. “Cannot go unpunished. No matter the risk or consequence, I will not stand for it. Especially when it’s directed at something or someone as precious as you.”