Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
“Get your hands off her, you bastards!” a deep voice snarls.
I look up and see a monstrous, hulking man standing over me, putting his muscled body between me and my assailants. He’s built like a fighter or a soldier. Wide-shouldered, broad-chested, and wearing jeans, boots, and a raggedy tee.
He’s also brutally handsome in a dangerous way.
“Hey, man, just don’t hurt us, okay?” The guy who was just about to stuff me into the back of a van is now pleading like a little boy about to cry.
“I’d get out of here now,” he growls back, pulling his phone from his pocket. I watch him dial 9-1-1. “Yeah, I want to report an assault and attempted kidnapping on a woman–”
My pulse quickens with intrigue.
Who is this man? Why is he putting himself in danger for me?
Instantly, the two attackers leap to their feet and race off into the night. My mysterious guardian hangs up, smirks with disgust, then turns back to me and reaches out a massive, callused hand.
“You’re all right now, sweetheart. Those men won’t be back.” His voice is like warm honey in my ears, and his brilliant blue eyes seem to shine down at me through the darkness of the night. Suddenly, I know I’m all right. Safe. Nothing will happen to me now that he’s here.
I know I should reach out and take his hand, but my body doesn’t listen, and my eyes scour his with salacious interest.
His jeans are stretched and strained around his muscular, working-man’s thighs. His forearms are cut with sinewed muscle and laced with bulging veins signifying his strength. He has dark scruff wrapping his chiseled jaw and is wearing a mesh University of Texas hat.
Plenty of fellas around here might come off similar, but whoever this guy is, it’s like God took everything about him and dialed it up to 11. He’s bigger, taller, way hotter, and dripping with masculine energy.
I realize I’m thinking all kinds of inappropriate things about him as I reach out and take his hand. I was on my way to a date and here I am thinking about why his jeans seem to be bugling at the seams, so thick in the middle. Jesus, it’s like suddenly my ovaries are screaming at me.
“Th-thank you,” I stammer as he pulls me to my feet like he’s lifting a feather.
His smile takes my breath right out of me. Is that…interest I see in his eyes? Impossible. A man like him must run through flocks of models like a cat goes through kibble.
“Not a problem, darling. No way I was gonna let those two sick fucks follow through with whatever they had planned for you.”
“Are you a cop?” I regret my question immediately. Does he look like a cop?
“I sure ain’t.” He grins broadly. “But I could handcuff you if you’re into that sort of thing.”
Have I lost it, or is he flirting with me?
My heart is beating so loudly he must hear its beat through my chest. And I’m blushing so hard my cheeks feel like they’re on fire.
“Sorry, bad joke,” he says. “My name’s Taylor.”
“Layla,” I reply. “And no…it wasn’t a bad joke. I’m just shook up is all.”
“Layla.” He smiles. “You like ice cream, Layla?”
What did he just ask me? And did he just move closer to me, or am I dreaming? I swear I can smell him from here–a manly musk that feels right at home in my nostrils.
“Ice cream?” I ask. He nods, his eyes sharp and intent. “Yeah, I like ice cream.”
“Well, I just happen to have a fresh new carton of Austin’s best mint-chocolate-chip back at my apartment. I’d be happy to whip you up a sundae if you’re in the mood.”
Is he being serious? A grown man asking me if I want to have ice cream with him? Shouldn’t he be asking me if I want to go have a drink at the bar or something? No. He’s not that kind of guy. I don’t know how I know, but I know he’s not interested in getting me drunk. Despite the fact that he’s the size of a literal monster, kindness radiates from him, and without realizing it, I find myself nodding.
“Sure. That’d be better than what I had planned tonight.”
“Oh? What’d you have planned tonight?”
I quickly shake my head. “Nothing. You live close by?”
It turns out Taylor lives just two blocks down from me on the third floor of a nice new building. We’re greeted by the cutest golden retriever ever as we step inside.
“That’s Chester.” Taylor smirks, patting the cute little buddy as he sniffs around at my legs. “Just ignore him. He’s a good boy.”
My mouth falls open. Who is this man? Stunningly handsome, strong, tough, who likes ice cream and adorable dogs? It’s like he was created in a lab to melt panties without even trying.