Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 31942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Even though I don’t want to bring up the issue, I force myself to. “About Kyle. Post to your social media profile that you’re here. It should draw him out.”
She sets her mug of black coffee on the counter without taking a sip from it. “What if he comes for me?”
I hate the fear in her voice. I hate that she’s been going through this for months alone. “That’s what I’m counting on. Home court advantage here.”
While she was getting dressed, I talked with Colt and Ryker. They’ll be keeping an eye out for any strangers in the area. Sheriff Luke has also been alerted to what’s going on. He made it clear that if I needed anything, he and Deputy Griffin will back me up. This is one of the things I’m learning to love about small town living. Everyone knows me and that makes protecting my girl a hell of a lot easier. She’s not yours.
“This is my first time being stalked and all. Hopefully, my last. But shouldn’t we not provoke him? I mean, just seems like kind of a dumb idea.”
“The alternative is to wait for him to make his next move. You can’t tell me you want to live like this for another three months,” I point out as I set my now empty cup beside hers. My tone sounded too gruff, so I try to soften my words by reaching out and giving her shoulder a quick squeeze. I can feel the warmth of her body through the thin material and instantly drop my hand. I don’t need to be thinking those things, especially not when she’s in danger.
She frowns, that amber gaze darkening even more. Then she bites down on her lower lip, chewing on it so hard that I swipe my thumb across it.
I move the abused flesh and whisper the reckless command. “Trust me.”
“Will you keep me safe?” There’s something in her gaze, a rare vulnerability that I’ve only ever seen when she tried to pour out her feelings in that elevator.
I don’t even have to think about my answer. I know it as instinctively as I know how to breathe. This is Charlie. I’ll die before anything will happen to her. I’m her protector, her first line of defense. “Always.”
Then I’m sliding my hand up and cupping the soft skin of her face. This is a bad idea. I register that somewhere in my brain before deciding to ignore it. Because this is Charlie and I’ve been dying for another taste of these lips for three damn years.
5
CHARLIE
“Will you keep me safe?” My voice sounds tiny, like I’m that scared kid again and I hate that. I hate that I’m afraid and leaning on a man who doesn’t feel the same way about me that I do him.
“Always,” his hushed whisper is a desperate prayer, the last words of a man that’s walking too close to the edge. Then he slides his hand higher until he’s cupping my face in his big palm. I lean into his touch, into his strength. It’s the only invitation he needs.
He drops his head and presses his lips against mine. His kiss is like he is, commanding and possessive. He strokes his tongue across the seam of my lips, and I open to him eagerly. This is what I’ve been missing, what I’ve been craving every night for three years. It’s all I’ve thought about. All I’ve wanted. In every fantasy, it’s always Brody. Every time I touch myself, it’s him I’m thinking about. Every time I cry out someone’s name, it’s his.
I fist the material of his fitted t-shirt in my hands as a moan spills from my lips. The noise is just what I need to snap back to reality. He doesn’t even think I’m worthy of him. He said I wasn’t special, and I’m not so desperate that I’ll settle for scraps of affection from Brody.
I push against his shoulders and he breaks the kiss. He stares down at me with that light blue gaze that always reminds me of summertime and the popsicles he gave me when I was little. His chest is heaving and there’s a noticeable bulge behind his pants. But he told me what that was last time. He said any woman could do that to him.
Forcing myself to act casual as if I make out with hot men all the time, I ask, “What did you want me to post online?”
The briefest flicker of hurt crosses his features before he schools his expression. “Right. A picture of you at a nearby landmark will be fine. The barn here is probably a good place to start. It’ll lead him right to you.”
I follow him outside where he takes a few photos of me in various poses. While he snaps them, I tell myself that my lips don’t feel branded by his. I tell myself that my nipples aren’t tight, and my girly bits aren’t tingling. I have more self-respect than that.