Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 140462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
I swallow, wondering if I’m making the right choice, but I always overthink things, and this is simply not the time for that. I nod. “It can be arranged. A place where we can enjoy this,” I point to the wrapper. “Together.” I smile, glad my ears are tucked under the cap, because they tend to twitch when I’m nervous.
There’s a sharp, lustful glance in the man’s eyes as he rubs my hand with his thumb, and when he steps away, letting go, for a moment I stand still, his food and my obligations forgotten.
Many shadow-wielders say meeting one’s Dark Companion can feel like a strike of destiny, but when I look at this massive human whose name I don’t even know, I don’t feel that at all.
This isn’t happening to me. I’m taking destiny into my own hands.
Chapter 3
Hawk
For the past five years, cheap prison versions of Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners have been the best fare I could hope for, but with a bit of money in my pocket, I can now get whatever I want. Succulent chicken. Smoky beef patties. Fries that are actually crispy, and even ice-fucking-cream.
For the first time in years, I feel sated after a meal, and as I rest on the curb behind the restaurant, waiting for my one hundred pound dessert, smiles don’t leave my face.
So maybe it’s reckless to stay around here so soon after I went off the radar, along with several other people who are now dead, but if I were a cop, I’d be searching for a fugitive someplace more sensible than a fast food joint in the town nearest to the accident site.
Or I’m just excusing the insatiable need to put my dick in that pink mouth.
To say I’m mesmerized would be an understatement. Maybe I’ve just gotten used to guys being rough around the edges back in prison, but Sylvan (going by his name tag) is so pretty I can’t think straight. Talking to him is like encountering a fairy tale illustration in real life. His wrists are delicate like meringue, and his skin reminds me of the palest peach.
I stand by the locked door to the restaurant so I can get a glimpse of him sooner, and at one point he gave me a sweet smile from behind the counter. I’m twice his size and killed a man hours ago, but he makes me melt like the ice cream I’ve just eaten. He even gave me extra sprinkles. Cuteness is my kryptonite, and he’s got it in spades.
My heart skips a beat when he emerges from the back of the kitchen without his uniform. He’s dressed in a button-up black shirt and dark jeans, and the color only emphasizes how pale he is. I didn’t see much of his hair when he wore a cap, but it’s now visible, and he’s combed it nicely. He wants to make a good impression, which is adorable, because by the end of this night, his white hair will be matted from rubbing against the sheets.
When our gazes meet through the glass pane in the door separating us from one another, his expression is somber, as if he were about to make a life-changing decision. Which I suppose he is, considering he’s about to sample my cock. I’m not the poetic type, but his eyes are something else. Like sapphires covered in frost, and the fact that his lashes are also very pale only makes that first impression sink deeper into my brain.
As soon as he steps out though, one thing becomes undeniable.
He is tiny.
The top of his head doesn’t even reach my shoulder. He could bury that pretty face in my chest hair without even leaning down. I could pick him up, bridal-style, and carry him off so he doesn’t need to tire his small feet, without breaking a sweat.
My dick twitches at the thought of all the things I can do to him, and I’ll definitely need more than two condoms for that.
He offers me a curt smile, as if he wasn’t a tiny thing about to have a fuck fest with a guy most people would cross the street to avoid at this time of night, and turns around to lock the restaurant.
“Oh shit,” I mumble as my gaze drops to his ass, showcased by a pair of jeans. I can barely resist the temptation to drop to my knees, drag the denim off him, and eat his ass right here, in the faint glow of the lamp installed above Best Burgers Bonanza’s back door. He would shiver, bite his lips, cheek flat against glass, and push back, begging for more. And those two steps would work perfectly to make up for some of our height difference, allowing me to rail him from the back as he holds on to the door handle.