Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
“Water?”
I blink, startled. I have no idea how long I’ve been fixated on the control panel, but I look down and realize I’m actually just about done fixing the shotty wiring. I glance up, and my heart jumps in my chest. My cock fucking twitches as my eyes slide up over the tight, sweat-slicked body of the gorgeous cinnamon bun girl.
She smiles down at me bashfully. “Are you thirsty?”
She’s holding a big bottle of water, glistening with beads of condensation. Christ, it might even be as sexy as her right now, given how dehydrated I am. I glance past her to see the window mercifully devoid of any customers.
“Yeah, thanks, I appreciate it.”
“No problem,” she smiles. “You look really hot.”
I just grin when she visibly, physically cringes and squeezes her eyes shut. Fuck, she looks so fucking cute when she blushes like that.
“I’m West, by the way,” I say with a smirk. “West Farrow.”
“Taylor,” she mumbles through burning cheeks. “Conway.”
“Well, Taylor, I’m almost done here.”
She sighs mercifully, relaxing just a little bit. “Oh thank God. This place has a been a freaking sauna for days.”
I chuckle and swig the water. “So how’d you get stuck working at this place?”
She frowns and looks down with a shrug. “Oh, my uncle owns it.
Fuck.
I wrinkle my nose and make a face. “Shit, sorry.”
“No!” She laughs and looks up. “No, it’s fine. I mean, trust me, I’d rather be working almost literally anywhere else. I mean, I like cinnamon buns and all, but—”
“But who wants them in this heat, right?”
“Exactly!” She giggles. “And I could do without the pissed off tourists,” she adds with an adorable fucking little scowl.
“Heard that,” I grin.
“It’s just a summer thing,” she shrugs. “I mean working here. It’s just until I go to school in the fall.”
“College?”
“Yeah.”
Thank fucking God.
“I’m not sure what for yet, though. All I know is, it’s time to do my own thing.”
There’s a ding of a bell, and her face falls with her shoulders. I glance past her to see a scowling tourist dinging the “ring for service” bell on the counter.
“Miss!”
“My own thing or serve more fucking melting cinnamon buns to bitches like that,” she spits.
Instantly, I chuckle, but her whole face goes red. Her eyes go wide and she covers her mouth with a hand like she’s just said the worst curse in the world.
“Oh my God! That was—”
“Miss!”
“Accurate,” I grin.
She smiles back, blushing. She turns, then glances at me once again. Then she whips her long blonde hair back from her face and marches back to the take-out window. I grunt and stoop down to finish up the AC, but there’s a few last bits to reconnect that I missed with my first pass.
I groan, sweating my fucking balls off while I twist the wires and solder the last parts back in place. Sweat drips down my back and my chest, and drips into my damn eyes. I hiss as the soldering iron singes a fingertip, but with that last part, I’m done.
I stand, panting and sweating my ass off. I don’t even think, and I don’t care anyways, when I reach down and peel my absolutely soaked shirt off. I stretch my sore muscles from kneeling over the control box, and I whirl to go for the water bottle I’ve set on the shelf behind me.
…And I whirl right into Taylor as she comes waltzing back into the room.
She gasps and tumbles into me, her palms flat against my chest and a sound of surprise on her lips. I grunt, and my arms circle her on instinct. But once they’re there, they don’t go anywhere. I freeze with this angel in my arms, blushing deeply and gasping as she looks up into my eyes.
I’m shirtless—she might as well be with that thin, soaked tank-top like a second skin. I can feel the swell of her pert breasts against me, and I can feel the hard points of her nipples against my skin. The hollow of her neck throbs with her pulse, and I swear, I feel her hips sink against me.
I should walk away, for a million reasons. She’s too young. She’s the niece of the guy who owns this place and is paying us for this job. I’m too fucked up from war and killing for something so pure and innocent as her.
I could keep going until the list is a mile long. But I know damn well it won’t make a lick of difference, and it won’t stop me for even a single millisecond from doing, well, this.
I grab her tight, lean down, and as she breaths out a soft, moaning whimper, I crush my lips to hers, hard.
Chapter Three
Taylor
Oh my God. Oh my God.
I’m kissing him—I’m literally standing here kissing the crazy hot, fantasy man who’s been invading my every thought since the moment I laid eyes on him across the pier.