Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
“How are you not?” I ask, running my hand up the hard curve of his arm. His muscles are solid beneath my touch, and I swear I feel the faintest tremor as I move my hand upward. “All these muscles,” I say, my voice softer now, almost reverent. “You are enormous.”
His breath hitches slightly, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t stop me as my hand roams higher, over his shoulder and across the broad expanse of his chest. His pectorals flex beneath my palm, and the motion sends a thrill racing through me.
My cheeks flush hot as my thoughts betray me, veering into territory I’ve never dared tread before. What else about him is big? The question strikes like lightning, and before I can stop myself, my eyes flick downward, settling on the buckle of his pants.
I linger there for a second too long, my imagination running wild, before I snap my gaze back up to his face.
His dark eyes are locked on mine, the intensity in them even stronger now. His jaw tightens slightly, and there’s something unreadable in his expression—something that makes my breath catch.
“Careful, Tory,” he says, his voice low and edged with warning. But there’s something else in it too, something that makes my stomach flip.
“I—” I start, but the words die in my throat. I’m frozen, caught between embarrassment and something far more dangerous.
His gaze dips to my lips for the briefest moment before returning to my eyes. “You think I’m intimidating?” he asks, his tone softer now, almost teasing.
“Yes,” I whisper, my heart pounding so loudly I’m sure he can hear it.
His hand moves, slow and deliberate, reaching up to gently brush a strand of hair away from my face. His fingers linger near my cheek, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down my spine.
“You’re the one who’s dangerous,” he murmurs, his eyes never leaving mine. “You don’t even realize it, do you?”
I shake my head slightly, my breath hitching. “What do you mean?”
He leans in, just a fraction, and my pulse skyrockets. “You’re not just smart, Tory. You’re stunning. And that combination? That’s what makes you dangerous.”
I’m completely undone. My thoughts scatter, leaving nothing but the overwhelming presence of him, his closeness, his voice, and the way he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing that matters.
And in this moment, I think maybe I don’t mind being dangerous. Not if it means this. Not if it means him.
Chapter 5
Ranger
Holy fuck. I can’t believe I’m standing so close to her, feeling the soft, tentative brush of her hand as it roams over me. Her touch is light, almost hesitant, but it sets my body on fire, igniting something I can’t control. My heart hammers wildly in my chest, like a caged beast threatening to break free.
She blinks up at me with those big, innocent eyes, her lips parted slightly as if she’s about to say something but can’t quite find the words. Her hand moves higher, grazing over my biceps, then my chest, and my breath catches. I’ve been touched before—plenty of times—but not like this. Never like this.
“Are you intimidated by big things?” The question tumbles out of my mouth before I can stop it, my voice rougher than I intended.
I can’t believe I’m asking her this. It’s reckless, crossing a line I swore I wouldn’t cross. But to hell with it. The moment I saw her picture, I knew she’d be trouble for me. The kind of trouble you don’t walk away from.
It’s not just physical. Sure, her beauty is enough to bring a man to his knees, but it’s more than that. She’s got this quiet brilliance about her, this way of looking at the world that’s so different from anyone I’ve ever known. It draws me in, makes me want to know more, to see everything through her eyes.
She’s not like other women I’ve known in the past. She’s not about shallow conversations or fleeting connections. She’s deep, real, and utterly fascinating—a lethal combination.
But it’s not just admiration. Just being around her makes me feel different. Grounded and electrified all at once. I know, without a doubt, that I could make something with this woman. Something real. Something lasting. If she’d let me. If she could see what I see.
Her hand pauses on my chest, and I feel her swallow, her throat working as she struggles to find her voice.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. Her hand pulls away, and the loss of her touch feels like a blow. “I shouldn’t be touching you,” she whispers, ignoring my question.
“I’m enjoying it,” I say, my voice low, steady. I don’t even think about the words—they just come out, raw and honest.
Her eyes widen slightly, and she stares at me like she’s not sure if she heard me right. “You are?”