Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 146666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 587(@250wpm)___ 489(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 587(@250wpm)___ 489(@300wpm)
She didn’t like that. She was a good girl. Well . . . that wasn’t always true. Growing up, she’d been hell on wheels.
And look where that had gotten her.
Nope. Good girl. She was a good girl.
“Hey. Don’t look so worried,” he told her. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I’m not scared. Not of you, anyway.”
“You’re scared of the storm.”
“Something . . . something bad happened to me in a snowstorm.”
“Well, nothing bad is going to happen to you now. Understand me? I will keep you safe.”
“Can I keep you with me all the time?” she asked.
“Like a bodyguard?” He grinned as he shifted gears. Fuck, that was sexy. She didn’t know why. But watching those hands move the gear stick around.
Yep. Sexy.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “Something like that.”
“While I’m sure that would be fun, I don’t think I’d make a very good bodyguard.”
“Why not?”
“I’m too bossy.”
“And fussy,” she said as he tucked the jacket back under her leg when it had slipped. “You’re bossy and fussy.”
Was he a Daddy? She kind of got that feeling from him. But what did she know?
“You make driving a stick shift look so easy,” she said.
“You can’t drive a manual?” he asked.
“I sort of can. Aidan tried to teach me with this old clunker of a car he owned. It was his pride and joy, and every time I rode the clutch, he practically had a heart attack. That car was held together by duct tape and a prayer, but I couldn’t torture him like that. Well, unless he was being a dick. Then, I’d ask him to take me for driving lessons, and he’d go all pale . . . that was fun.”
“That was very naughty.”
She narrowed her gaze at him. Was he going to scold her?
“But also, devious. I admire that.” He winked at her. “Want me to teach you to drive a stick shift?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think I’d be any good at it, you know? You’re used to it.”
“Holding onto a stick? I’ve had some practice.”
Was he talking about . . . she gaped up at him.
He turned to look at her, and that’s when she realized he’d parked his truck in front of a nice-looking hotel. A far nicer hotel than she could ever afford.
Uh-oh.
“I’m talking about the fact I’ve been driving for a long time. What did you think I was talking about?”
“Um. Nothing.”
The hotel had three stories with long balconies running along the length of each level.
“Are you ready to go inside?” he asked gently. “We can wait if you need a minute.”
What? Why would he think that she needed a minute?
That’s when she noticed that not only was her hand wrapped around his wrist, but that she was holding on tight. In fact . . . she might even be pressing her nails into his skin.
Oops.
Shit.
She loosened her grip and then took hold of his hand so she could look at his wrist. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I did that.” She ran her finger carefully over the red marks she’d left. “So sorry. Shit.”
“Hey. Hey. Listen, it’s fine.”
“No, it isn’t. It isn’t fine. I hurt you.”
“Greer.” Moving slowly, he cupped her chin and tilted her face back until she had no choice but to look up at him. “You didn’t hurt me. And even if you did, I wouldn’t care.”
“It’s wrong to hurt someone.”
“Normally, I would agree. But you didn’t hurt me.”
She sniffled. She still felt terrible. She didn’t like the idea that she might have harmed him.
“I want to be a good girl,” she whispered.
“Oh, Greer, you are a good girl. I promise.”
Shit. What was she doing? With her defenses down, she was practically broadcasting that she was a Little to him.
Deep breaths.
“Sorry.”
He rubbed his thumb over her cheek, which sent a shiver through her. She longed to lean into his touch, to rub up against him like a contented kitten.
Shit.
What she wouldn’t give to be able to let everything go for a while. To just give someone else all her worries.
No one will want to do that for you. To take over. You’re too much of a burden.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Aidan would do it. But then she’d get mad at him for trying to take over and probably kick him in the balls.
Right . . . she was starting to worry about her violent thoughts.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Kicking Aidan in the balls,” she answered truthfully.
“All right. That was not the answer I expected.” His lips twitched and she found herself smiling.
“You haven’t thought of doing that before?” she asked.
“I really try to avoid touching my friends’ balls. Means I get to keep this face intact.” He grinned as he waved a finger in front of his face.
“Good plan. Save the pretty face,” she said.
“Pretty, huh? I prefer ruggedly handsome. But I’ll take it.”