Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 94205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
And why was the bed so uncomfortable? She wanted the cloud bed back.
“I want to marry that bed.”
“Interesting idea. Don’t think it’s legal, though.”
She opened her eyes and screamed.
The man staring down at her screamed as well, jumping back and holding his chest. She sat up, trying to scramble backward. Who the hell was he?
She’d never seen him in her life. He was tall and broad-shouldered. Older, maybe in his late forties. His short dark hair had hints of gray at the temples, and he wore the lines on his face of someone who had seen and done a lot in his years.
“Why’d you scream, girl? Fuck, you scared me half to death.” He rubbed at his chest like he might be about to have a heart attack.
Oh shit. He wasn’t, was he?
“Are you okay?” she asked, despite just moments ago wondering if she could kick him in the balls and then run.
Of course, she couldn’t even get up off the ground, so the chances of her being able to run . . . yeah, pretty much zilch.
And kneeing him in the balls? Well, she was just as likely to knee herself in the eye.
“I could wish I was that flexible,” she muttered.
“What? You want to be flexible?” he asked, frowning down at her. She got the feeling that he frowned a lot. “You’re trouble, aren’t you?”
“I am not.”
He sighed. “You are. Trouble with a capital T. And you’re gonna pull me into your trouble.”
“I am not.” What was he going on about?
“You sure are. This is what I get for stopping. I have to learn . . . doing the right thing brings you nothing but trouble. And here you are . . . bringing me trouble.”
“I’ve done no such thing. And I am not trouble. I don’t even know you. How could I bring anything into your life?”
“Because our lives are now entwined, girl. Don’t you know that’s the way it works?”
“The way what works?”
“I saved you, so now I have to take care of you.” He sighed. “You know, I knew nothing good was going to happen when I took pity on Saxon and his begging and took over his kitchen. It’s basically mine now. We pretend he’s in charge, but everyone knows who the real boss is. This is really all his fault. He thinks he saved me and now our lives are tied. Which is what is happening with the two of us. Of course, the real truth is that I’m the only reason his restaurant is successful.”
She had no idea what he was talking about.
“Have you . . . are you all right?”
“Course I am, girl. You’re the one who’s not all right. Wanting to marry a mattress and muttering about getting flexible. Well? Come on, then.”
“Come on, what?” she asked hesitantly. Maybe if she humored him, then he’d go away.
“We got to get going. You don’t look so good, girlie.” He studied her closer, then his face changed, growing stone cold. And she realized that she wasn’t just dealing with someone who was possibly slightly off his rocker. He could be dangerous as well. She froze, growing tense. Was he . . . was he going to hurt her?
Well, she supposed this was just the icing on the horror cake that was her life at the moment.
One dreadful thing after another.
“Who the fuck hit you?” he thundered.
She cringed back, falling onto her back. She took some short, shallow breaths in order not to cry out in pain. Or fear.
“Fuck. Shit, girl. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
A scarred hand appeared in front of her. Did she take it? He could still be some murdering monster.
With how her life was going, that was more than likely the case.
“Girl, I’m not going to hit you. I don’t hurt women. Well, not unless they want it.”
“W-what?”
“Don’t look so scared, girlie. I’m talking about consensual pain.”
“Consensual pain? Like spankings?” she asked, thinking of Butch. He still owed her twenty-two.
She wondered if she’d ever get that spanking. And why did it make her sad to think she wouldn’t?
The sun might have messed with her head.
“Among other things. Ever heard of BDSM? Sadomasochism?”
“Are you . . . are you saying you’re a sadist?” she asked.
“Yep. But you don’t need to look so scared, girlie. I’m not about to whip your ass. Not without consent. Consent is sexy, you know.”
“I . . . right,” she whispered.
“I may be a grumpy old asshole, but I’m not a dick.”
Okay. She thought she understood what he was saying . . . maybe.
As he helped her up, the world spun again, and he wrapped an arm gently around her to keep her from falling over.
“Whoa, girl. How long you been sleeping here?”
“I don’t . . . I don’t know.” She cleared her throat. “What time is it?”