Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
"And you're Madeline Dooley."
Okay, brain, time to do your thing. Explain what happened, apologize, and get the frig out of here before you spend the rest of your life in jail for touching his dick without permission.
"I didn't mean to touch your dick," I say, literally squirming on my feet. "I'm so, so sorry. I was trying to escape, and I ran into you, and I thought I was falling, and I tried to grab you to keep myself upright, but I expected to find your chest, not your…um…dick. Instead, I found it, and then I panicked like fight, flight, or freaking panic, you know?" I inhale a breath, my first since I started speaking. "And now we're here. Please don't send me to jail. I don't think I'd be a very good inmate, Drake."
"Huh."
I stare at him for five full seconds before "Huh?" finally bursts from my lips. "That's all you have to say? Just huh?" I cross my arms, scowling. "My fate is literally in your hands. I could have a cellmate who collects toenail clippings. I'm pleading for mercy here, and all I get is huh?"
"Toenail clippings?"
"I watched a documentary," I mumble.
"On toenail clippings?"
"On prison. Keep up."
"Right. You're pleading for mercy."
"Exactly!"
A lazy smile tips his lips up at the corners. "Tell you what," he murmurs. "When we're married, and you're in my bed, we'll see if you still want mercy. But that's not what I was talking about when I said, huh."
I gape at him, my face blazing hot. "You did not just say that."
"Oh, I did." He slowly reaches out, using one fingertip to close my mouth. "Meant it too."
"You're insane." Yes, that's the explanation. He's a cranky hermit because he tells complete strangers that they're getting married. His family obviously keeps him locked away for his own well-being. He seems perfectly sane to me, though.
"No, I just know what I want, unicorn. And she just wrapped her perfect fucking hand around my cock and squeezed," he growls, those icy eyes locked on me in a way that makes my heart race. But I cannot deal with flirting or sexual innuendo or…whatever this is. No way.
I don't even know where to start!
I don't flirt. I don't date. And I definitely don't do sex. I mean, have sex. Especially not with reclusive billionaires who look like this man. I picked a freaking unicorn for a reason. I am one. A unicorn. Well, I'm a virgin, but it basically means the same thing to people my age.
"Please stop talking," I plead, my head spinning.
"Why were you trying to escape? Is someone bothering you?"
"Uh, did you miss the fact that I'm the only unicorn in a sea of ballgowns, Drake?"
"Nope." His gaze runs over my costume. "You're the only thing I've seen since I walked in the door."
I groan, pressing my hands to my cheeks. "I'm going to be the town weirdo."
"I mean, you did grab my cock."
"You are not helping!" I cry, scowling at him. "Why are you so annoying?"
"Probably because you're so fucking cute when you're flustered." He shrugs, cocking his head to the side. "It's sexy as hell, unicorn."
"Oh my god. Stop calling me that before I murder you along with my cousin."
"You murdered your cousin?"
"No. Not yet. It's on my list."
His grin is wide enough to split his face. And for some reason, I want to kiss it off him.
Nope. No way. Not happening.
There's a reason I don't date or flirt or have sex. Love is the reason. I don't do love. My parents claimed they were in love…right up until they divorced when I was eight. I've been a piece of rope in their tug-of-war ever since.
If my mom got me a toy, my dad had to get me a better one. If he took me on a trip, she insisted on taking me on a better one. It was never about me, but I was always the one who suffered in their little war. Every holiday was a battleground, littered with bad memories and meltdowns from one parent or the other.
I'm twenty-three, and they still try to use me like a rope. It's exhausting!
If that's what love turns people into, count me out.
"Why are we murdering your cousin?"
"We?" I blink at Drake and then shake my head. "You probably have bodies in your basement, so of course you're cool with murder," I mutter, scrubbing my hands down my face like that's going to make him any less kissable. It doesn't, darn it. It doesn't make my nipples any less hard, either.
"Escape with me, and you can find out for yourself."
"What?" I drop my hands back to my sides, staring at him in shock.
"You don't want to be here. I definitely don't want to fucking be here. So, escape with me, unicorn." He holds out his hand. "Let's get the fuck out of here."