Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 111435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Without my brain being in control of them, my eyes immediately darted to his. My skin tingled under the force of his stare.
“You know this fucker,” he deduced after looking at me for a long moment.
Shit, was I that transparent, or was he that fucking good?
Whichever one it was, I knew there was no way I could lie to him.
“Look, it’s not a big deal,” I rushed out, still trapped in his gaze. “I have an ex. He doesn’t like being my ex, but I didn’t like being cheated on, talked down to and being in his presence, so I dumped him. He’d never been dumped before. He’s rich, entitled, attractive like he was made on a hot guy conveyer belt, all the stuff is there. You appreciate it at first, but once you get close enough it’s just ... boring, I guess.” My eyes moved over his face. The ink covering his face. The slight crookedness of his nose. The different colored eyes, glittering like gemstones.
“He’s nothing like you,” I whispered. “There was no conveyer belt with you. You were handmade, my friend.” My cheeks burned, realizing what I’d just said.
Oh my god. Don’t just sit here gaping and turning red. Say something.
“Anyway,” I continued, waving my hand, going for nonchalance. “He sometimes, kind of ... follows me. Finds me however it is rich guys with lots of resources and no real job figure out how to find people. Usually, he tries romantic gestures. You know, flowers, gifts, the whole thing. But when I don’t accept and tell him in no uncertain terms to go away, he gets mad. Never anything like this, of course. This is a whole new level of assholery. In the past it was just words. Insults, that kind of thing...”
I trailed off, deciding not to tell him about the time he’d slashed my tires and spray painted ‘slut’ on the side of my car since he was getting more and more still, and that twinkling kind of intensity that had been there when I was talking about him being handmade was now nowhere to be seen.
This was a completely new kind of intensity.
One that should have absolutely terrified me. Which it did. Kind of. Mostly it just turned me on.
All the way on.
“He follows you,” he said slowly.
I swallowed at his tone, the way his words made the air thicker, making it almost impossible to breathe. Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded once.
He looked like he was going to say some things. A lot of things. Not quietly. I waited for these things, the ones that protective alpha males spouted. The questions about why I hadn’t gone to the cops. I had, but with my nomadic lifestyle, my chosen profession and the fact that Derek’s last name held a bunch of sway, the reports hadn’t gone anywhere.
He didn’t ask questions nor demand to know why I hadn’t tried to do more. Instead, he uttered something that might’ve knocked my socks off, had I been wearing any.
“You’re movin’ in with me.”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You heard. Once you get discharged, you’re gonna pack your shit. Or better yet, I’ll get Scarlett over to pack your shit since you need to rest. She’ll know what you need. Or you can make a list. Anything she forgets or doesn’t get, you tell me, I’ll go out and buy it.”
“Scarlett?” I repeated, wondering if my meds were kicking in again.
He gave me a brusque nod that seemed to be more like an impatient twitch. “Old Lady. In town for the week. She knows girl shit.”
Just when he looked like he was about to move forward and drag me somewhere—which I got the feeling he was about to do—and I lost all of my faculties under the magic that was his touch, I held up my hand.
“Wait, this is getting far too alpha male for my liking, with all of this telling, the clipped words and the brooding stare.” I tried to make it sound like the brooding stare wasn’t at all impressive, but it really fucking was.
His jaw flexed, and he folded his arms across his chest.
Do not look at his biceps. Do not look at the flexing muscles and think about them wrapping around you. Oh, you’ve gone and fucking done it, haven’t you, you horny bitch.
“No,” I snapped, both to my hormones and to Hades.
“No isn’t an option,” he returned.
“No is most certainly an option,” I argued, sitting up even more in bed. If he hadn’t been standing so close and I was feeling strong enough, I would’ve grabbed my bag and stormed out. But he was standing much too close, and I wasn’t feeling strong enough. So I did my best with furrowed brows and a ‘don’t fuck with me’ look.
“I barely know you,” I pointed out before he could keep on saying shit that was really, really pissing me off. “I am a grown woman. A grown woman who got the shit beaten out of her by an overzealous male last night. One I knew a fuck of a lot better than I know you. In ordinary circumstances, I would not react well to someone deciding I’m going to move in with them. Especially if that someone has a penis. I’m reacting even worse right now.”