Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 22544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Dalton blinked before asking incredulously, “You’re going to give an axe to an ex-con?”
I snorted a laugh, but answered him seriously, “I trust you.”
I could easily see how much the words meant to him. His features softened and his beautiful smile returned. “Let’s do it.”
Chapter Four
Dalton
Ever the gentleman, Hutch held the door open for me, ushering me inside the building where we’d be throwing axes. I loved the simple gestures he did for me, from opening doors to buying me lunch; they made me feel cared for, for the first time in my life.
I followed him inside, and we stopped at a desk at the entrance. While Hutch paid for our activity, I took a moment to look around. We stood in a giant open room. Along the back wall were several stalls, formed by walls which were wooden halfway up, and then chain link to the ceiling.
Each stall held two wooden planks which were painted with a target; the outside rings were white, and there was a bright red circle in the center of each. The planks were covered with deep cuts all over their surfaces.
Of the eight stalls, three of them were in use. Men and women were standing about ten or fifteen feet away from the targets and chucking axes over their heads towards the planks. Loud thumps and cheers filled the room as they hit their targets.
“Here you go,” Hutch said as he held out a sticker and a marker. When I arched my brow in question, he explained, “You’re supposed to choose an axe-themed name; it’s just part of the fun.”
I took the items, but I was stumped. Ha…stump. Too bad I couldn’t be that punny when it came to name choosing. “I’m not sure what to write,” I admitted.
Hutch told me, “I’ve seen people wearing name tags that said Smart Axe or Axe to Grind.”
“What’s your name?” I asked curiously as he scribbled something on his tag. He placed the sticker, which read Kill Shot, on his chest. It was nice, but I thought he missed a chance to choose Nice Axe, which described the beautiful bubbles on his backside, wrapped in his snug jeans.
Moment by moment, I was growing more comfortable with my attraction to Hutch. And with every moment that passed, my attraction deepened, along with my need to touch him. Even the simple touches between us, like holding hands at the diner, or the way he pressed his fingers into my back when he led me through a door, drove me crazy. I still didn’t fully understand what was happening, but I was quickly realizing that I didn’t care.
Feeling bold and even a little naughty, I wrote down a name which I hoped sent a flirty message to Hutch. I slapped the sticker on my chest, and held my breath as he read: Just the Tip.
Hutch swallowed thickly, and his eyes were full of fire when they met mine. His voice was husky when he said, “Nice name. But you gotta be careful; just the tip will get you addicted.” He winked and I melted into a puddle. The man was too damn hot to handle.
Surely knowing what he was doing to me, Hutch gave a gravely laugh and took my hand, leading my wobbly legs over to an empty stall. He pointed out a wooden bin filled with axes of different shapes and sizes.
“Test them out,” he suggested, and his lips curled into a wicked smile when he added, “I bet the wood feels good in your hand.” He chuckled when my knees went weak and I stumbled a bit. I’d started something dangerous by choosing a flirty name. Hutch was giving it back to me, and he was much better at it than I was.
I tried to keep the tremble from my hands as I lifted an axe from the box, not even paying attention to what I chose. But Hutch was. When I had the handle in my hand, he gave another salacious smile.
“Ah, so you like a long, thick shaft? I’m glad to hear it.” Fuck. My shaft was about to pop out of my pants if he kept that shit up. Which of course he did. “Want to watch me play with my wood?” My jaw dropped open and I nodded slowly.
Hutch turned towards the target and lifted his arms. His biceps bulged beneath his sleeve as he lurched forward, sending the axe flinging through the air and into the wood, sinking right into the bullseye.
“Whoa,” I exclaimed, impressed by both his shot and his form while making it.
His smile was less naughty and more grateful when he replied, “Thank you. Why don’t you give it a shot?”
“Okay.” I took a deep breath and faced the target. I positioned my body as Hutch had done, squaring my shoulders and lifting my arms over my head. I grunted as I hurled my hands forward, releasing the axe. It soared through the air before slamming into the wall, butt first, before clattering to the floor. “Well, shit.”