Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 204(@200wpm)___ 163(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 204(@200wpm)___ 163(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
He died because I have a crazy ex who happens to live his life around killing people. The guilt consumes me.
The tears begin to fall. The man beside me, stands and moves to the same side of the couch as me. Settling in beside me, I suddenly feel his hand on my neck and the other on my leg sliding me over and onto his lap.
Numb with the knowledge of Fred getting caught up in my bullshit, I allow him to tuck me against his rock hard body.
I’m a curvy girl. Not huge, but I definitely have fluff and softness to my body. He has moved me without missing a breath. Every inch of him under me is taut and firm. He clearly stays in shape. Being against him my small five feet four inch self fits against his well over six feet tall size easily.
“Let it out, buttercup,” he consoles as I can’t stop the barrage of tears. “No more talking for now. Just get it out. Let yourself feel.”
I settle against him. He reaches a long arm to the side of the couch he was sitting on and grabs a blanket from under the cushion. He has arranged us with his back in the corner of the sectional part of this couch, his legs outstretched to where I was just sitting. Me curled up on him, over him, and a blanket now draped over me with his arms holding me tight.
As I let the emotions go, he strokes my hair and says nothing. Silently, I still find comfort in him. No words are needed. He kisses the top of my head as the entire day consumes me.
“Fred was kind,” I whisper to no one.
“He was, I’m sure. So are you buttercup,” he replies and I lift my head and look to the man holding me.
“You don’t know me, Jennings.”
He gives me this half smirk. “Kind of part of my expertise if you will, is to read people. You came here from city life, but acclimated to the friendliness of the deep south. You give your change to drunk Stan every time you leave the grocery store because he stands there pedaling to get another beer. More than that, you always buy a premade sub to give to him as well.”
I gasp. “How do you know that?” Fear builds, can I trust this man? Has he been following me? Does he actually work for Benny? I know my cousin’s lifestyle, she would be the kind to do searches on new people, follow them if necessary. The basic investigation they did doesn’t bother me, but the grocery store is a bit much. Have they been following me?
Reading my mind it seems, he explains, “Was behind you twice and both times same action. Shows it’s a pattern, babe.”
“I didn’t see you,” I reply as he tries to settle me back against him. I have been too comfortable here, let my guard down.
“Relax, Michele. You didn’t see me because once you managed to get comfortable here, you stopped looking over your shoulder every five seconds. I’m not a stalker. But I have a feeling you have experienced someone keeping tabs on you.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I fire back.
“We don’t have to talk.”
He resumes stroking my hair and twisting the ends in his fingers without saying another word.
Is it that simple? I don’t want to talk so he shuts up, when does a man do that? This is a twilight zone. Men like him don’t give up. I said I don’t want to and poof he doesn’t push the issue. I don’t even know what to think.
“I have a feeling you know things you aren’t sharing,” I whisper.
The vibration of his chuckle under me doesn’t make me tense, I somehow find peace in it.
“Thought you didn’t want to talk,” he teases.
Why I continue to engage this, I don’t know. I can’t seem to stop myself as the words tumble out, “Not talking, making an observation.”
“I have a strong intuition, buttercup, you know a whole lot about a lot of things you aren’t sharing. I have another feeling, if you would like to call it that, you may have some connections you haven’t shared.”
I push up off his chest and my eyes meet his, “I think that anyone with half a brain these days should hold things close to the vest. I think that unless we are getting to know each other for friendship, relationship, and those sorts of things there is no reason to share personal information.”
He smirks, “what about situationships?”
I gasp as he pulls me up his body. His lips hit mine and like an idiot my mouth opens for him. My traitorous body longing for intimacy gives in as his tongue dances with mine and this kiss goes from something simple to something full of passion and fire in an instant. My core clinches and panties dampen from a kiss. He is that good.