Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
I can't remember the last time anyone made me smile this much. Actually, that's not true. I never smile this much. I'm a grumpy asshole nine days out of ten.
People annoy the fuck out of me. Being nice to them annoys the fuck out of me. Spending time with them also annoys the fuck out of me. Having to do those three things at the same time turns me into a raging asshole. But there's something…calming about her.
For the first time in a long time, being in town, surrounded by people who used to bully the fuck out of me, doesn't have me feeling like I want to crawl out of my skin. There's a sense of anticipation and…excitement I haven't felt in…well, since I was a fucking kid, honestly.
I help her climb up into the truck—but not before she peers into the backseat like she's checking to make sure no one is hiding back there.
"Did you move here from Houston?"
"No. Why?"
"Because I can pretty much guarantee no one is hiding in the backseat of my truck in Midnight Falls, unicorn," I murmur. "The crime rate around here is a dispute between farmers, the town drunk running naked through town again, and the occasional candy bar theft."
She turns to look at me, a smirk dancing on her lips. "Are you the town drunk you speak of, Mr. Whitlock? You seem awful familiar with his criminal history."
"Get in the truck, smart ass."
She giggles as she scrambles in, giving me a fantastic view of her ass. Right up until she drops down in the seat.
I scowl, trying to figure out how to get my eyes on her ass again.
"I meant what I said. I will be the most annoying gho—What are you doing?" She swats my hands away when I try to buckle her seatbelt. "I can do that."
I reluctantly back off to let her do it, my hands itching to touch her again. "You didn't answer my question."
"What question?"
"What scares you?" I ask, curious as hell. She's a fearless little thing, as far as I can tell. Spiders and the prospect of jail aside, nothing much seems to slow her down.
She considers the question while I close her door and circle around, climbing in beside her. My eyes drift closed as her scent swirls around me. Fucking hell. The whole cab of the truck smells like her—sweet, juicy apples.
I briefly wonder if she'll taste as tart and juicy. But that particular line of thought makes my cock throb like a motherfucker, so I crank the engine instead.
The truck rumbles to life while she's still considering the question.
"This," she finally says as I pull out of the parking lot onto the main road.
I glance over at her. "Hmm?"
"This scares me," she whispers, her fingers all tangled up in the long sleeves of her costume.
"Being alone with me?" My heart climbs into my throat. Fuck. She's afraid of me. "I'm not going to hurt you, unicorn. There are no bodies in my basement, and you aren't in any danger with me. Not now or ever, I promise you that."
"Good to know." She swallows. "But that's not what I was talking about. Um…" Her cheeks heat, an adorable blush climbing all the way to her hairline. "I've never left a party with a guy before, Drake," she whispers like she's telling me a state secret. "Or gone home with one."
Cum spills into my boxers in response, my blood roaring through my veins in a rush. Fuck my life. She's innocent. Untouched. A goddamn unicorn virgin, just like me. My hands tighten around the steering wheel in a last-ditch effort to keep them to myself.
"Good to know," I say, my voice a rough rasp even to my ears. "Because I haven't either."
She stares at me for a second and then smiles devilishly. "You've never gone home with a guy?"
"Nope, afraid not." I chuckle. Her sassy attitude and smart mouth are far too goddamn attractive. Something about her teasing is just damn appealing. When Jack talks all the fucking time, it annoys me. Listening to her is the exact opposite of annoying. "I've never taken anyone home with me, either."
She blinks like a little owl, clearly caught off guard. "You're lying."
"Nope."
"I'm pretty sure you're doing the hot, single billionaire thing wrong, Drake," she says. "You're supposed to have notches in your bedpost and a drawer full of panties you've collected from your conquests or something."
"Yeah, none of that bullshit sounds appealing to me, Madeline." I glance over at her. "Doesn't sound sanitary, either. A drawer full of random dirty panties?"
"I don't make the rules, Whitlock." She shrugs one shoulder, making her horn bob again.
"Thank fucking God. I have serious concerns about your rules right now."
She giggles, peeking over at me. "So you aren't a billionaire manwhore. Why not?"