Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Her smile widens. “I’ll never forget those black pants giving way to rainbow unicorn boxer briefs.”
“They were a—”
“Gift from Sprout,” she finishes for me with a soft laugh. “I know, I know. But it was still funny. It’s sweet that you actually wear them. Most dads wouldn’t.”
“I’m not most dads,” I say, letting the words serve as a reminder of the kind of man I want to be—the kind who doesn’t get his daughter’s hopes up about a relationship that’s never going to happen.
And the type who doesn’t ground her for the next decade for pulling a stunt like this. After all, as long as Binx and I both get out of here in one piece, without any irreversible mistakes being made, it’ll all be okay.
Though, speaking of irreversible mistakes…
“These might scar,” I tell her as I clean my hands as best I can with one alcohol wipe. “Hopefully they’ll stop bleeding and scab over once the irritation stops, but the wounds are deep.”
“I think it will be okay,” she says, a mixture of hope and concern in her voice. “I chafed pretty badly with these pants once before, and it healed faster than I could have imagined.” She sucks in a breath and sets her jaw. “I’m going to be fine. And I’m ready. Just…do it. Fast. Like a shot.”
“All right,” I say, bracing myself to hurt her. Even knowing I’m helping with the hurt, it’s not going to be easy. “Here we go.”
I dab the wipe over the wound on her right thigh, the worse of the two. Her muscles go rigid beneath my other hand, but she doesn’t make a sound aside from a sharp hiss of breath. I keep going, cleaning the wound thoroughly.
By the time I’m done, she’s trembling all over.
“Okay?” I ask.
“Just hurry,” she says in a breathy voice. “It’s bad, but it’ll be over soon.”
“It will be,” I promise, pulling out another clean wipe and giving her other wound the same treatment, “There, all done, the worst part is over. We just need to give the skin around them a second to dry before I put on the bandages.” I lift my gaze. “How you holding up?”
She looks down, her pale features weary. “Okay.” She slides her tongue across her bottom lip. “Are you intimidated?”
“By what?”
“By my badass pain tolerance.”
I smile. “Oh, yeah. For sure. Totally intimidated, but not surprised. You’re way more badass than I am.”
“Thanks,” she says, her lips hooking up on one side. “Pretty lies make a girl feel good while she’s waiting to pull up her pants. The petting is nice, too.”
I’m about to ask what she means by that, then realize I’ve been absentmindedly stroking her thighs beneath her wounds, running my thumbs up and down her velvety soft skin.
I pull my hands away with a self-conscious laugh. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she murmurs. “It was nice. Your touch is…nice.”
I hold her gaze and for a moment as I imagine stripping her panties down to her ankles and showing her how nice I can be. I want my mouth between her legs, kissing her in the most intimate way a man can kiss a woman. I want to devour her, worship her, make her tremble for reasons that have nothing to do with pain.
Then, I want to take her from behind, slow and careful, so as not to cause her anything but pleasure.
And I swear, Binx can read my mind. She bites her bottom lip and gives a slight nod, as if giving me permission to ravage her right here in the middle of the woods.
But I don’t.
I carefully apply the bandages, fetch my spare pants from my bag, and turn my back as she puts them on. Then, I swing both bags back onto my back again and set off at a slower pace, willing myself to take it easy, even though I’m desperate to get to the bathroom at the cabin.
A cold shower is exactly what the doctor ordered to cool things off between us.
Or, worst-case scenario, I can jerk off in the shower, hopefully taking the edge off enough that we can make it through a night in close quarters without doing anything we’ll regret.
Yeah, good luck with that, buddy, my dick says a mile later, from where he’s still rock hard and aching behind my fly.
This isn’t going to be easy, but important things rarely are.
It’s important that I never cross the line with Binx again. That’s the right thing to do, and I’m going to keep fighting for the right, even if a part of me is certain it’s a battle I’m doomed to lose.
Chapter 11
BINX
Our progress slows even more after our first aid session. I’m swimming in Seven’s pants, holding them up with one hand as I scuttle forward, doing my best not to disturb the bandages underneath.