Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 62056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
"Why?"
Sweet, sweeeet baby Jesus.
Something starts spreading sinuously through my veins, and it takes a moment for me to realize it's actually lust that has invaded my blood.
I've read about this, you know.
Like, countless times.
Big bad alphas always purr.
Always.
They usually do it when they've found the woman they want to fuck, and the fact that Mr. Mine is now purring like all of those sexy, fake-mean heroes in my favorites books—-
Get a grip on yourself...self!
"Is it because of this?"
Color steals over my cheeks as Mr. Mine places my phone on the table.
Busted, 2.0.
So I forgot about my little misdemeanor, and now I'm not quite sure how to atone for it. Should I apologize for secretly taking a photo of him? Or should I tell him I was just being selfless, and that I sincerely believed his photo can be an FDA-approved treatment for PMS?
It's hard to figure out what I'm supposed to say, with how I'm suddenly distracted by the way his black cotton shirt has stretched as Mr. Mine leans back against his chair.
Oh yeah, baby!
I still can't tell if he has chest hair or not, but at least the shirt does a great job at accentuating the amazing breadth of his shoulders and the incredible expanse of his chest. I'm not saying he's huge huge like The Rock, but it's more like he's ooh-la-la huge like Henry Cavill, and—-
Oops!
The way his lips have this eensy weensy curve like an almost-smirk makes me realize I've been staring at his chest rather dreamily for quite some time...and that he's been watching me do it from the very start.
Busted, 3.0.
I can only look at him sheepishly at this point. "Sorry."
"For staring? Or for taking a photo of me?"
He's purring again, and my heart races away at the sound of it. I may be boyfriend-less since birth, but I know when someone's flirting with me, and I just want to pinch myself.
Mr. Mine!
Flirting!
Me!
Lust gushes out of me, and all I can do is hurriedly snap my legs close under the table. This has never happened to me before, and as shameless as it is to want this, but I really hope there comes a day I can tell him the truth.
I just think it would be cute, awesome, and kinky if I could one day tell Mr. Mine that he once asked me to do the impossible. I want to be able to whisper into his ear, I'm sorry, Mr. Mine. I really do want to obey you, but it's just impossible to be not wet when you're around.
One day, maybe.
I'll have a chance to say that.
But since I'm not that confident just yet—-
I look at him from under my lashes, which is my first attempt to flirt back, ever. "Which do you think I should apologize for?"
Tiger-gold eyes gleam at me, and all I know of grammar goes poof because I. IS. SWOONING.
"I don't mind the former," Mr. Mine says lazily, "but the latter could get you arrested...maybe even killed."
I start to laugh...but stop when he seems utterly serious. "Uh..."
"You'll just have to trust me on this."
Oh, phew.
I really thought he was serious for a moment there, but I think we're flirting still, and so I bite my lip like he has me terribly worried. "I don't think so."
He leans even closer, and my lungs threaten to collapse as his scent envelopes me.
"Why not?"
"Because you strike me as the dangerous type."
"If that's what you think..." Mr. Mine gently runs his knuckles down my cheek as he speaks, and it's all I can do not to gasp and shiver.
"Then you're absolutely right. I'm not someone good or nice. I'm bad in every unimaginable way there is—-"
He looks at me under his extraordinarily long lashes, and my inner folds ache and swell.
"But we both know it's all those things as well that has your pussy crying out for my dick."
Holy, holy, holy...fuck-a-holey.
I can't believe he just said that, but on the other hand, it also feels very much like him to say the words, and while I know these things are supposed to scare and offend good girls like me—-
That's just not how the real world works, ever since Internet became a thing.
Nowadays, you can be just like me, a home-schooled island girl who never smokes, drinks or parties. I'm the kind of girl who never wants to do drugs and always goes to church on Sundays—-but who also happens to own a Kindle full of dirty books and uses a VPN to watch porn, incognito.
Girls like me are neither good nor bad. Rocking the boat isn't our thing, but we do want to get into trouble now and then, and my Mr. Mine?
He's exactly the kind of man that he says he is. He's everything I shouldn't want, and that's why he's a man I can't trust. But for him to imply that I only want him because of that...