Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 68576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
I kept my gaze on my toes as he held the door for me.
Before I could lock it, he did it himself with a set of keys I didn’t know he had.
Then he was walking silently beside me as we made our way to his truck.
The drive to my hotel was chaos.
The only words either one of us said were related to the traffic or the bad drivers who were passing us.
By the time we got up to my apartment, I felt like the silence was unbearable.
However, instead of leaving when he saw me safely inside, he followed me in, surprising both him and me.
He walked into my place and narrowed his eyes as he took a look around. “What is all of this?”
I nearly laughed.
I knew what it looked like.
Chaos…everywhere.
I glanced at all the human hair on every available surface and shrugged. “None of your business.”
I made wigs for a living.
I’d started making them when I was sixteen and my sister thought it’d be funny to cut all my hair off the day before my prom.
Her reasoning for doing so was twofold.
One, she couldn’t stand me.
Two, she didn’t like that I was going to prom with a senior she had her sights set on.
Though, it was news to both me and that senior.
Anyway, the day before prom, I’d had to go to a wig shop to look for something suitable to hide my bald head—though it was only bald because I’d shaved it all the way off after Sage’s hack job.
I’d been desperate, and the wig shop lady, who’d made them all by hand, had been so sweet and kind.
After that, we’d built a rapport, and I’d learned the craft of her trade.
Now, I made wigs for people all over the world.
People sent me the hair—hair that was donated to them by either a family member or a friend—and I sent them back a wig.
I didn’t do it for the profit, though.
I did it because it made me feel good.
That was why I barely broke even.
I wouldn’t charge people at the lowest points in their lives.
He picked up a finished wig that I was sending out tomorrow and inspected it.
“Do you make these?” he asked.
I snorted. “I don’t know what gave you that idea.”
He gave me a look that made my knees weak.
I turned my back on him and shucked the t-shirt I was wearing.
I had a camisole underneath it with a built-in shelf bra, so I wasn’t too worried about exposing my body to the man whose eyes hadn’t left me from the moment I’d turned.
I toed off each of my shoes, then pulled off my socks.
I threw it all into the hamper next to the bathroom door, then unbuttoned my jeans.
I caught up a pair of shorts off the floor, then said, “Turn your back, please.”
I didn’t check to see if he complied.
I only shucked my jeans, very aware that that left me in only a pair of thong panties, and bent over to step into my shorts.
A wheezing breath had me glancing in the mirror.
That’s when I realized my mistake.
The hotel was a fancy one.
It was loft style with a single area in the very corner of the room that was an enclosure big enough to sit on the toilet and close the door.
The rest of it was a very open concept, and there were mirrors everywhere.
It was almost as if this hotel knew exactly what it was getting when they’d made it so upscale.
As if they knew damn well and good that people would come here to fuck, and fuck only.
But the problem with the mirrors was that, even with him turning around and giving me his back, he’d still had a view of me because of the mirror in front of him.
Honestly, he had his pick of which view to take in.
The one in the room that looked down my shirt and had a view of my curved ass. Or the one from the front that had my breasts spilling out of my top as I bent over to put my shorts on.
It was that momentary lack of concentration that had me stepping into my shorts wrong.
I rocked forward as my foot caught on the waistband of my shorts and faceplanted into the bed on accident.
I gasped, pushed up onto my hands, and felt a hard body behind me.
His hands closed on my waist, and I didn’t protest.
He pushed his hips into my backside, and suddenly every hesitation I had was gone, as if it’d never been.
I bit my lip and barely contained the moan as his hard cock pressed into me.
“You should tell me to leave,” he rasped.
I didn’t say a word.
His hands nearly spanned my entire waist, they were so big.
“You’re so soft,” he mused, his thumb sweeping from my hip to my side and back.