Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
“What did you want to ask me?” He keeps his hold on my wrist.
“If you can say dick again?” Dang it! I wasn’t going to say that. His hold on me tightens.
“Bunnies often find themselves in traps. You really need to be careful when you’re around men, Charlie.”
“Bunny,” I correct. “I like when you call me Bunny.”
“You really need to be careful when you’re around men, Bunny,” he repeats.
“When you say bunnies in traps. I think of myself in a trap. You know, like that BDSM stuff I might have read about.”
“Online?” he growls. “In chat groups?” Oh noes. This has somehow made him madder than me spilling paint all over him and then rubbing his dick.
“There are chat rooms online for BDSM stuff?” I’d never thought of that before. “Like dating sites but for people who are into BDSM? I’m not, just so we’re clear. Not that I’m kink-shaming or anything,” I rush to add. “I suppose a light spanking or being tied to a bed doesn’t sound terrible. It’s the nipple clamps and paddles that scare me.” I shiver thinking about it. “My nipples are sensitive, and I don’t like pain. I still cry when I get shots. They push it in sooooo deep.”
“Stop talking.” The firmness of his tone has me sealing my lips together. “I’m going to go clean up.” He turns to leave but doesn’t let my wrist go. I drop the cloth from my hand and follow after him. It’s not until we’re in his place that he releases me.
He toes his boots off before he walks into the bathroom. A second later, he comes back with a wet towel. I watch as he leans down and wipes the paint from my legs.
“I’m really sorry. I always—”
“Only paint, Bunny,” he says again, his voice back to being soft. It makes a lump form in my throat. Rowan isn’t mad I spilled it. “I’m going to shower and change. You wait here.”
“Okay, I’ll stay right here,” I agree. Even if I want to peek into a few drawers. I can have some self-control. Maybe. “I'll just play with my phone.” I pull it out of my back pocket.
“Do not look up chat groups.” His face grows deadly serious. If I didn’t know how sweet he was, I might be scared.
“I won’t.”
“I want you to promise it.”
“I promise.” Now I didn’t promise about peeping in the drawers, so that’s still on the table. “Rowan,” I call when he starts to go back toward the bathroom. “Can I ask my original question?”
“Yeah.” He pulls his shirt off, tossing it into a basket. His chest is broad and covered in a thin layer of hair. Rowan really is all man. “Bunny. My eyes are up here.”
“Right.” My whole face warms. When my eyes meet his, I can see he’s smiling.
“Ask.”
“So is it a term of endearment when you call me Bunny?”
“I suppose it is.” With that, he turns to go into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Now I gotta think of a name for him too.
9
ROWAN
I’m fucking up. This is not what I’m supposed to be doing. Paint sluices down the drain as I finish rinsing off. My jeans are probably ruined, but that’s nothing new. I’ve torn up plenty of clothes crawling around in and under this house and other spots on the property.
I flip the water off and step out, Charlie on my mind. My cock pulses as I remember the way she was touching me, her innocent hands stoking a fire inside me. With the way the towel tents around my cock as I wrap the material around my waist, it seems the fire is still burning perilously high.
I want her. That’s one thing about me–I know myself. I’m honest with myself, even if I’m dishonest with everyone else. Though something tells me I’m going to have a hard time being dishonest to Charlie. She’s so fucking cute and naïve. She looks at me like I’m a goddamn treat. That’s new. Most people fear me. I’m big, I’m practically sullen all the damn time, and I don’t take kindly to people trying to talk to me, much less touch me. But with Charlie, all that’s different.
Sighing, I crack the door to look for her. When I don’t see her, I figure she must’ve gone back to the house. Maybe she wanted a shower, too. I try to ignore the pain of regret I feel at her leaving. Then I imagine her looking up BDSM chat groups, and my blood boils again. Some motherfucker in there would love to take advantage of my Bunny, and I sure as hell am not going to let that happen.
Not that she’s mine. She’s not.
I stride into my bedroom and stop.
Bunny is bent over my dresser, her round ass filling out her shorts to perfection as she snoops. She hasn’t heard me come in and mumbles to herself as she sorts through my things.