Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
“Okay.” His pause is brief to let his frame move closer back to mine. “Maybe you don’t need anything or anyone-”
“I don’t. There’s no maybe.”
“Fine, you don’t need anything or anyone, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it, baby.”
My rapid hand movement threatens to slow down.
“And just because you can take care of you, doesn’t mean some asshole like me doesn’t wanna help do it, too.”
Against my own volition I peer up and over at his adoring expression. “You’re not an asshole, Kid.”
All of a sudden, the front door swings open revealing an exhausted Nolan. “Fuck me, could I use a beer and some tits in my face.”
“He’s the asshole.” I playfully wink prior to us redirecting our attention to him. “Hi to you too, Mutt.”
“Rabbit.” He tosses his keys on the kitchen counter during his approach our direction. “Kid.”
I hate that I didn’t think to ban that nickname in my life sooner.
I double hate that the damn thing has actually grown on me in such a short time.
And I absolutely loathe how much I not only like it, but crave it coming from him.
Don’t even let me get started on how much I simply wanted him around today too.
It’s not that I don’t like or want The Kid.
I mean we spent the day together streaming the classic Speed Racer anime, fucking, and flirting like what we’re doing is permanent instead of a temporary fling for a few days.
Obviously, I like him.
Want whatever we’re doing.
I just…want his crabby companion too.
There’s something about when they’re together that’s so fucking intoxicating I can’t stop myself from wanting to OD on it. It’s like the venom he spews is secretly laced with something so delectable that gorging myself is the only option to feel the high, and verbally sparring in order to get it somehow only makes the shit much more delicious.
I like not being seen as a damsel.
The demand to rise to the occasion, to his level, before one of us is falling to our knees.
I’ve never felt anything like it.
Not sure I ever will again.
“Rough day?” Kipp inquires, arm stretching along the back of the couch as if wordlessly inviting him to join us.
“Had to tow a fucking RV in Crystal Waters.” His large frame plops on the other side of me as I resume the scrawling. “One of those big beast bitches.”
“Motorized?”
“Yeah.”
“Class?”
“C.”
“Engine?”
“Cummins 6.7L diesel.”
Kipp lets out a moan that damn near results in me completely losing my grip on my pen. “Fuck, I can’t wait to get my hands on that shit.”
“Didn’t bring it here.”
The air in the room gets unexpectedly tense.
“Why not?”
“We have enough to deal with.”
“You talkin’ about Bunny’s car? Because that shit isn’t ready for work yet.”
“No, but Rabbit herself is a pretty big job.”
“You trying to be the one dog that doesn’t go to heaven?” I sassily taunt his direction, not surprised when he starts cockily grinning.
“Harvest Fests are in session the next few weeks,” Nolan reminds his best friend. “On average you tend to pull two to three tourists a day on top of our regular maintenance clients from Crystal Waters and the snowbirds back in town from Spike Village.” He extends his arm along the backside of his portion of the couch. “Didn’t think you needed that extra stress.”
“Didn’t think to maybe fucking ask?”
Hearing Kipp’s tone firm in tandem with seeing his body do the same out of my peripheral leads to me toying with my tongue ring.
Can’t lie.
There’s something so goddamn irresistible about the way he takes charge.
In and out of bed.
“Nope,” Nolan emotionlessly replies, expression unchanged.
“Do you ever think to fucking ask?” Kipp swiftly counters. “Do you ever fucking think that maybe I wanna decide on some shit myself? That I don’t want everything decided fucking for me?”
“I think that this fucking conversation isn’t about a fucking tow job.”
When Kipp doesn’t immediately answer, I can’t resist looking back over at him.
Examining the tightness in his jaw.
The frustration wrinkling his forehead.
What is this really about?
Me?
Working on my car?
Letting me stay here longer than a night?
Fucking me?
Why do I get the feeling that I’m right in the center of whatever is happening between them?
“You got something to say, Kid?” Nolan adjusts his body to angle himself in a more challenging nature. “Fuckin’ say it.”
Kipp remains silent.
Still.
“Don’t tuck your sack back now. You’ve been comin’ at me crooked for the last two fuckin’ days, so either man the fuck up or shut the fuck up. It’s that simple.”
Wrong timing, but fuck, when he uses that authoritative tone, it makes me wanna get under him.
And on top of him.
And scream “Yes, Sir” like they’re the only two words I fucking know.
Huh.
How am I still this horny after getting laid that much?
Is this like…dry spell aftershocks or something?!
“I’m not eighteen anymore. I’m old enough to make decisions about shit.” The blanket statement feels teeming with subtext. “And I expect to be included in making decisions about future shit. Especially our future shit.” Their eyes lock in the space in front of me. “I can handle shit. I need…you to realize I’m ready to handle shit.”