Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Ahhhh… My brain hums with surprise, unable to think of a suitable reaction. All I can do is blink from all the manhandling.
Mason begins to dab at the cut, and I flinch back from the sting. “Dude… it hurts.”
He takes hold of my chin and keeping me still, continues to dab at the cut, but at least it’s softer this time. He cleans the blood from my chin, then reaches up to the cabinet against the wall, totally leaning into me.
With the extreme close up view of his chest, all I can do is stare like an idiot. His spicy scent wafts up my nose, and it makes me lose my mind for a moment.
“Love the aftershave.”
Mason pulls back and sets a small first aid kit down next to me. His head is bowed as he looks for whatever he needs, and my eyes glide over the sharp lines of his jaw, which is covered in a light dusting of stubble.
“Are you taking a break from shaving?” I ask.
“Shut up, Hunt,” he growls low.
He takes out an alcohol swab and brings it to my face.
I yank back. “It stings.”
His left-hand shoots behind my neck, and with a tight grip, he forces me to keep still.
As he begins to clean the cut, my eyes start to water from the sharp smell. It burns the cut, making a whimper slip from me.
“Almost done,” he whispers, his tone much softer.
He drops the swab in the sink and tilting his head, he leans even closer to me, as he looks at the cut. I feel his breath fan over my neck and freeze as a wave of awareness wells up in me.
“It doesn’t look like you need stitches,” he says, totally oblivious to my reaction of having him so close to me.
When he moves back a couple of inches, and his eyes meet mine, I quickly glance to the side.
“Relax, Hunt.”
Dude, you’re all up in my personal space. I get a front-row view of your jaw, your mouth, your… everything. Oh, and you smell sooooo good.
Yep. No way I’m going to relax.
He squirts some ointment onto his finger, then takes hold of my chin as he dabs it over the cut.
I glance away again, so I don’t keep staring at his face, and my eyes land on a scar on his left arm which stretches from above his wrist and all the way to his elbow.
Not thinking, I lift my hand and brush a finger along the length of the scar.
Mason freezes, and when I feel his eyes burn on me, I drop my hand quickly.
“You better not be pitying me right now,” he warns.
“Just a moment of insanity brought on by the fumes of all the crap you’re shoving in my face,” I quickly defend my stupid action.
He sticks a butterfly bandage over the cut, then he brings his eyes back to mine as he places his hands on the counter on either side of me.
Uhmmm….
I stare back having no idea what to do right now.
“Thank you,” I whisper, thinking that’s what he’s waiting for.
His eyes are still smoldering with anger from the fight with West, and I’m about to start squirming when he says with a low rumble, “I’m sorry you got hurt.”
My eyebrow shoots sky-high because I’ve never heard this man use the words ‘I’m sorry’ before.
He pulls back. “Don’t give me that look, Hunt. You’re going to make me regret apologizing.”
I point to my face. “You mean this look of total disbelief?”
“Kingsley!”
“Ma-aason.” I widen my eyes, and when a smile starts to pull at my lips, I cringe from the sting.
“Serves you right,” he mumbles as he begins to clear the mess from the sink.
Maybe I have a temporary concussion because I hop off the counter and pat him on the arm. “Thanks for fixing me up, but seriously, it’s a good thing for all of mankind you didn’t go into the medical field. You have zero bedside manners.”
Mason swings around, drops the cloth back in the sink and then he’s crowding my personal space.
He leans even closer, and I swallow hard when I feel his breath fan over the side of my face. “You wouldn’t be able to handle my bedside manners, Hunt.”
Don’t argue. Let him win this round.
Don’t!
“Is that a dare?” I whisper back.
Oh, woman. Why? Why do you have to have the last word?
He pulls slightly back, his eyes locking with mine. I resist the urge to swallow hard. This time he stares at me until I feel thoroughly out of my depth, because deep down I know he’s too much for me to handle.
He’s too hot, too intense, and so much stronger than me. With the emphasis on the hot part right now.
His eyes slowly drift down to my mouth, and I almost lick my lips, but luckily, I still have some common sense left, and remember the cut.