Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 48017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Nobody my own age wanted to even go on a date let alone do anything else.
But Brandon’s not just anyone. And he’s got something nobody at college ever had, apart from killer good looks and a body that’s lifted straight from a calendar.
He’s got experience and maturity.
Emotional maturity, not just years.
Age is just a number, and although he’s probably old enough to be my dad, I don’t see him in that light. Not at all.
He’s kind and sweet too, even though he acts like a caveman half the time. And he’s a little bossy.
Okay, a lot bossy. But he is a boss after all, so what did I expect?
I’m glad I’ve waited to be honest. Glad life held off on giving me fumbling boys and lackluster experiences is what I mean.
My waiting wasn’t exactly by choice.
All this time I wasn’t just saving myself, and I wasn’t just feeling sorry for myself either. Not the whole time anyway.
I really was waiting for the right man to come along. A real man, Brandon Silver.
Once the afterglow of his magic tongue lashing wears off some, I feel a chill, and looking down at myself I make a face.
I’m half-naked, wearing someone else’s already damaged wedding gown, which needs mending in a few more places as well as dry cleaning still.
Extra dry cleaning.
Feeling my own wetness on the edges once I start moving around makes me notice just how much of an effect Brandon has on me. Inside and out.
“I gotta go change,” I explain to him, tucking my chest back in but he only shrugs and shadows me all the way to the stairs at the other end of the store.
The little staircase leads up to a landing that’s really my front door.
The entrance to the tiny little loft apartment I live in above the store.
“I won’t be long,” I tell him, turning to face him while trying to block the stairs with my body.
I’ll die if he sees where and how I live.
Having a man like Brandon see me mostly naked and up close is one thing, but the state of my room right now?
“I’m not going to bite,” he says, smiling as he reconsiders his own words.
“Very funny,” I remark. “But seriously, I’ll be like five—”
In two of his huge steps, he’s lifted me up like I weigh nothing and started to carry me up the narrow stairs himself.
“Minutes…” I groan, finishing my sentence and trying not to roll my eyes.
It really does seem to me that Brandon Silver is a man who knows what he wants and he’s so damned big and strong he usually just helps himself to it anyway.
“I’m not letting you out of my sight again,” he informs me, gripping me closer to him and feeling every fiber of his muscular body contract under me, I soon forget about the state of my room, wondering just how long I can wait before I give myself to him after all.
He tells me to open my door without even setting me down, only stooping a little so I can reach the handle and then ducking some more as he works his way inside. Carrying me all the way in before finally letting me down.
He doesn’t say a word as he scans the room, but he doesn’t have to.
His face says it all.
“It’s not much, but it’s rent free,” I chime in, feeling more inadequate by the second.
Collecting himself, Brandon gives a half-smile and asks if I really spend much time up here anyway.
There’s a long table by the window with my sewing machine. So I answer yes, I spend pretty much every minute I’m not working downstairs working upstairs.
Brandon’s brow grows furrowed, and as if on cue the last remnants of the storm outside give a final rumble and flash of lightning that plays out across his features before he forces himself to relax a little.
“You got a bathroom?” he asks, and I figure he might need to use it.
“More of a closet for a man your size,” I laugh, pointing him in the right direction, but he only sticks his head in before making another low, dissatisfied sound.
“I’ll get changed,” I murmur, and although I can tell he doesn’t approve of where I live, Brandon’s a perfect gentleman and casually turns away, pretending to look out the window while I slip out of what’s left of our client’s wedding dress and into some track pants and a sweater.
“All done.” I let him know, looking up to see his eyes reflected in the window.
He’s been watching me the whole time, which makes me blush but also makes me feel kinda special somehow, hard to explain it but just the way he kind of half-smiles when he looks at me.
It’s nice.
“Kitchen?” he asks next, and my eyes move to a small table in the corner next to an even smaller sink on the wall.