Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
I suppose it doesn't hurt that she's wearing that sexy little farm girl costume, but there are plenty of girls here in much sexier costumes and none of them hold my attention.
I keep envisioning getting her alone, wrapping her blonde braids around my knuckles, grabbing her tight ass in those cut-off denim shorts…
Fuck.
The way she would look up at me….
My cock hardens just imagining it.
I want the real thing.
She didn’t even want to talk to me, though. Might be a bit of an obstacle.
She felt an attraction, though. I wasn’t alone in that.
By the way her gaze lingered, I could tell she liked my costume, too.
And hey, now I know we’ve seen at least one of the same shows.
I bet we have so much in common.
That doesn’t feel like the truth, but I'm still glad I went with this costume. It feels fitting given the filthy thoughts of raping and pillaging the cute little farm girl inspires.
I've been watching her for hours. I can’t believe she’s still here. She doesn't seem to have any friends here, though she briefly chatted with a guy dressed as the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz.
I didn't like it.
Yet another illogical response.
She wasn't even interested in him.
She doesn't seem interested in anyone.
She doesn't even seem altogether comfortable with being here. Maybe she's uneasy in social situations. An introvert.
Dammit, why am I so curious to know more about her?
My eyes narrow as the pocket of solitude she has been enjoying is interrupted once more by the tenacious Tin Man.
Sophie waited around until a coveted spot on the couch opened up, then she dropped into it and hasn’t moved since. It was the first time all night she's looked happy. She pulled out her phone and mentally left the party.
But now, Tin Man is back, forcing a seat for himself between her and the sexy black cat beside her and ruining her good time.
Sophie scoots over as much as she can, seemingly worried about him crowding the cat, but now she's trapped. I can practically see the panic swelling up inside her.
I polish off the last of my drink and put my empty glass down on the nearest surface.
I could easily end this for her, but I'm not usually the type to intervene on others' behalf.
I'm not that nice or that considerate.
I'm a Viking, for fuck's sake, not Prince Charming.
So why does the idea of rescuing her fill me with anticipation and relief?
I don't know, but it does.
Since I'm also not in the habit of denying myself things I want, I abandon my watchful perch and make my way across the room toward Sophie.
Tin Man has his hand on her exposed knee, stroking it slowly despite her obvious discomfort.
Irritation bubbles up inside me.
Stopping directly in front of them, I drop my gaze pointedly to the Tin Man's hand, letting him see that it displeases me.
Without even needing to know why, he stops stroking and looks up at me, his eyes wide with alarm.
"Hey, Silvan," he squeaks.
"Move."
It's not a request.
Tin Man's Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard, then quickly scrambles to his feet, practically tripping over his own bulky costume in his hurry to vacate the couch.
"Sorry," he murmurs. "I didn't realize she was yours."
Sophie opens her mouth to object, but before she can, Tin Man flees without so much as a backward glance.
A smirk tugs at my lips as I gaze down at her. Her vulnerability bothered me when it was Tin Man taking advantage, but I find I quite like it when I'm the one towering over her.
It's decided.
The girl's spending the night with me.
The decision soothes something inside me, some restless thing that hates the idea of her slipping away from me. I know so little about her. We must go to the same school if she got an invite to my party, but the campus is so sizable, I may never stumble across her again.
As much as she doesn't seem to be enjoying this party, I doubt I'll see her at another one.
If this is my only shot, I have to take it.
I wait for her to scold me for "pretending" she's mine or snip at me that she didn't need me to save her and she was perfectly capable of handling herself, but when she looks up at me, despite the wry look on her face, she merely says, "Thank you."
I like her.
Offering my hand, I tell her, "Why don't we go somewhere less busy?"
She eyes my hand with distrust, but the only thing she enjoys less than trusting me seems to be this party, so she takes my hand and lets me pull her off the couch.
Deliberately, I pull her a little too hard so she falls into me.
She gasps, her small hands pressing against my firm chest. Her gaze flickers to mine, full of uncertainty.