Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Then I hear a male voice coming from the guest bedroom at the end of the hall.
“You guys painted the entire house?”
I peer into the room to find Natasha and the long-haired boy standing so close together, he might as well have his arm wrapped around her shoulders. She’s put her sundress back on over her bikini.
“We did, yeah.” Natasha grips both her elbows in a defensive posture. “Most of the furniture is brand new, except for a few antiques.”
My gaze narrows as I assess the boy. He’s slender and tall with an easy, lopsided smile. Is this the sort of guy Natasha’s into? A pretty boy barely out of diapers? Would he know the first thing about making a young woman like her feel good?
Jealousy swirls inside me like smoke. I take a deep breath to try and dissipate the feeling, but the effort is futile. As soon as the guy brushes his hand across Natasha’s forearm, I can’t think. Can’t feel. I can only act.
I step inside the room, my footfalls drawing their attention to the doorway. Natasha’s gasp is soft, but unmistakable.
“Dr. Ransom,” she says.
The words rumble up from my chest like a growl: “Can I help you two find something?”
“Toby just wanted a tour of the house.” She takes a small step back from the boy at her side.
I cut my gaze toward Toby. “Is that so?”
“Your house is really something, sir.” Toby glances at Natasha as he says this, and the insinuation that she is in fact really something might be accurate. But it still makes me want to snap the boy in half.
“Yes, she is,” I say, my voice deeper and more threatening than it has any right to be.
Natasha laughs awkwardly. Toby chugs the rest of his beer before crushing the can in his hand. She winces, clearly not impressed.
“Okay then,” he says. “I’m gonna grab another beer. Want me to get you anything, Nat?”
“No, thanks,” Natasha says softly. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
I move aside to let Toby through the doorway and then step into the room. Natasha studies me thoughtfully for a moment, her pretty, pink lips pursed into a bow-shape.
“We’ve been following your rules, Dr. Ransom. I haven’t had anything to drink.”
“I know.” …Because I’ve been watching you all night.
She squints at me. “Then what’s the problem?”
“There’s no problem.”
“Okay.” She crosses her arms below her breasts. “Then why do you look pissed?”
My feet move of their own volition until I’m standing toe-to-toe with the confused girl before me. “You look beautiful tonight, Natasha.”
She blinks, her lips parting slightly. “You—what?” She runs a hand through her damp hair, gathering it onto one shoulder. “Um… Thanks.”
My thoughts spring back to Toby, and how close he was to her, close enough to kiss her if he’d wanted to.
“That boy looked like he was about to kiss you,” I say.
She sighs. “Yeah… I got that impression, too.”
“Did you want him to?”
“Maybe.” She shrugs. “I mean, I used to want that.”
The mental image of Toby’s lips on hers fills my body with all kinds of tension. I’m beginning to regret not going to the gym today. I’d give anything for a stiff drink or a punching bag or something to get this feeling out of my system.
“I’m glad you didn’t,” I tell her.
“Why?”
I fumble for any reason other than the truth. “Because you’d be making a mistake.”
Natasha balks. “With all due respect, Doctor—”
“Evan.”
She inhales sharply through her nose.
“Evan,” she says tersely. “What would you know about it? You just met him.”
“I meet a lot of people in my line of work, which means I have a lot of practice when it comes to making quick character assessments.”
I lean in close, catching a whiff of her perfume mixed with a hint of sunscreen.
“What do you think Toby’s plans are for the summer, Natasha? Because I’d bet the deed to this house that he’s not thinking beyond the next ten minutes. Is that what you really want, after all your careful planning? Five minutes of sloppy, beer-flavored kisses and some lazy tit-groping, followed by a thirty-second pump session? Is that how you pictured your first time playing out?”
She flinches, and I almost regret being so blunt. Almost…
“What the hell is wrong with you, Evan? Why aren’t you saying the exact same shit to Oliver? Is it because I’m a girl? I can’t be trusted to make my own choices because I have a uterus instead of a dick and balls?”
“No,” I say through clenched teeth. “It’s because you’re—”
The truth crouches on the edge of my tongue, caged only by my teeth.
“Because I’m what?”
I press my hand to the small of her back as I close the last few inches between us. Her chest heaves. She’s as confused as she is affronted, but she’s not backing down from this. I close my fist around her hair and watch her eyes widen as I tilt her head back.