Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80314 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80314 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“What?” I look him over and notice then that his jacket and clothes are dirty and torn in a few places. “Did you call the cops?”
“Yeah, which is why I’m late.” He scrubs his fingers through his hair and flinches.
“Did they call an ambulance?”
“I told them not to.” His eyes wander over me, and his expression fills with regret. “Fuck, I’m sorry, baby.”
“You’re sorry?” I want to laugh, but it’s not appropriate right now, especially when he’s obviously in pain. “Come on.” I grab his hand and lead him to the kitchen, where I pull out one of the chairs at the island. Pushing him down to sit, I then grab a towel and get some ice from the freezer. “You should really go to the hospital.”
“I’m fine, just a little scratched up.” He takes the ice from me when I press it to the side of his face, then grabs my hand to keep me in place when I try to step back. “You look beautiful.”
“You should go to the hospital,” I repeat, ignoring his compliment and the way he’s looking at me.
“I’m fine,” he repeats softly, and I slowly lift my hand and touch my finger to the cut on his lip. It’s not deep or very big, but I still imagine it hurts. “What color is that?”
“What?” I lift my gaze to his, finding him staring at my mouth. “You got hit by a truck. The last thing you should be thinking about is the color of my lipstick.”
“It looks like cherry. Does it taste like cherry?” His eyes slide up to mine, and the place between my legs spasms.
“I’ll be back.” I shake my head at him, then wiggle free from his grasp, not sure how I ended up between his spread thighs with his hand around my hip.
I go to my bathroom, get my first aid kit from under the sink, and take it with me back to the kitchen. When I get there, he’s not holding the ice to his face. Instead, he’s giving Cooper a rubdown. “You need to keep the ice on that bruise.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.” I roll my eyes at him, then grab an alcohol pad and some Neosporin from the kit. “At least let me take care of your lip so it doesn’t get infected.” He stands and takes off his jacket and probably thinks I don’t notice the way he holds his breath, but I do. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
“I’m—”
“If you say you’re fine one more time, I’m going to scream,” I hiss, and he grins like he thinks I’m cute, then takes a seat and reaches for my hand.
“Come here, Ms.—” His brows drag together. “Fuck, I don’t know your last name.”
“Mayson.” I touch the alcohol wipe to his lip, and his jaw twitches.
“Are you related to anyone from Mayson Construction?”
“That’s my family’s company,” I tell him as I place some Neosporin on my finger and dab it on the cut.
“You’re shitting me.”
“I’m not.” I lift my eyes to his. “Why?”
“Nothing.” He shakes his head, then grabs my hand. “We should head out for dinner.”
“We’re not going to dinner.” I pick up the ice pack and place it back against the bruise on his face, and step back.
“Doll—”
“Do not tell me you’re fine. I’m changing, then making us something to eat.” I head for my room without another word, and while I’m changing, I realize that feeling in my chest is back.
Chapter 10
Aiden
WAKING TO MY arm asleep, I start to move but stop when the warm, soft woman in front of me wiggles her ass back against my lap, causing my already hard cock to harden further. I squeeze my eyes closed and fight back a tortured groan, not wanting to wake her up, knowing she didn’t get much sleep. Not that she’s tired from spending the night getting better acquainted with each other, no. Last night, after I mentioned having a headache, she convinced herself I had a concussion and refused to let me drive home.
Though, I never fought her on staying over. Sleeping near her even if she was in the next room was better than going home with only Dozer to keep me company. Which reminds me that I need to buy Noah a bottle of scotch for agreeing to go pick him up last night and take him to his place.
Coming out of my thoughts, I look over my shoulder at the clock on the wall. I’m not sure what time she normally wakes up to get to school, but I’d guess it’s soon, which sucks, because I don’t want to lose the feeling of her being pressed against me. Last night after about the fifth time she came to check on me, I grabbed her hand and pulled her down on the couch, refusing to let her go. She didn’t put up much of a fight though.