Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
It was the first time for me, too. Not that it went far enough to be considered sexual. Not for me. But I’m worried. I’m worried because I used to look forward to the future, when I would enjoy physical intimacy with a man.
Now?
Now the idea terrifies me. Puts me on the verge of hyperventilating.
Granger’s eyes have grown brilliantly bright, like twin diamonds. “That won’t be happening again,” he rasps, jerkily putting the car into drive. “Put on your seatbelt, Peyton. You’re coming home with me.”
“But I don’t even know you.”
A muscle slides up and down in his throat, the first hint of vulnerability I’ve seen from him. “Would you like to?”
Something compels me to tell the truth, the absolute truth, to this man. “Yes,” I whisper, clicking my belt into place. “I would.”
Is it my imagination or does he let out a held breath before gunning the engine? Watching the trailer park disappear in the rearview mirror, I get the distinct feeling that I’ll never see this place again. Because…he won’t allow it.
Am I crazy to be comforted by that?
Am I crazy to feel like I’ve finally found…a friend?
Chapter Two
Granger
If I could? I’d eat her whole.
She’d never come up for air.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing when I took that curve in the road and she came into view. Peyton is something straight out of a fairytale. All doll-eyed and innocent, sweet as hell with her big brown curls. I’ve been on the verge of coming in my jeans since that very first glimpse and now, as I gesture for her to precede me into my apartment, I’m still right there on the edge.
I’m overcome by every detail. Her scent, the slope of her throat, her thighs. The pale blue nightshirt she wears without a bra. The pink nail polish on her toes and the indentation in the center of her bottom lip.
Jesus. My pulse is going a thousand miles an hour.
I’m almost dizzy just having her brush past me in the doorway.
Acting normal is next to impossible. Acting like I haven’t found the goddess I plan to worship for the rest of my life. If she didn’t look shell-shocked and pale right now from what that bastard did to her, I’d already be down on my knees, whispering prayers to her ankles and licking up the insides of her thighs, begging for a chance to worship.
Nothing affects me like this. Hell, nothing affects me at all.
In my prior profession as mob muscle, I was known for having ice in my veins. A stint in prison made that blood run even icier. Right up until her. Now I’ve got lava flowing through me, rushing all different directions.
Forcing myself to regain control, I watch Peyton walk through the apartment, wearing nothing but a nightshirt, feet bare. Protectiveness expands inside me, shoving at the walls of my chest, nearly busting me wide open. Mine. This fairy is mine to protect. No one is ever going to harm a hair on her beautiful head.
Not ever again.
She turns, rubbing the outsides of her arms. Is she cold?
Without taking my eyes off her, I adjust the thermostat on the wall.
“You live alone?”
Polite conversation isn’t something I’m used to, but I do my best to make the opposite appear true, needing her to be comfortable with me. To trust me. “Yes, it’s just me.” I study her, memorizing her coloring. “I assume you’re done with that place. The trailer park.”
She lifts her chin, nods.
Good girl. Wouldn’t have let her return anyway.
With a deep breath, I nod at the second bedroom, which I’ve been using as a gym. “That’s the guest room. You’re welcome to it.”
“Oh,” she says on a breathy laugh. “I couldn’t impose like that.”
I suppress the urge to storm toward the girl, pick her up and lock her inside the room until I can figure out how to exist now that I’ve met her. She’s not leaving. I cannot let her leave. Am I capable of maneuvering her into staying without making her a prisoner? Yes. Yes, I have to be. Otherwise she’ll think I’m no better than her soon-to-be-deceased stepbrother. There’s one important difference between him and I, at least. I’d never lay a fucking finger on her if she didn’t want me to. The idea of her running away from me—or anyone—in fear makes me want to punch a hole in the wall.
“You’re not imposing,” I say, struggling to sound normal. “I was actually looking for a roommate.”
Lie. I’d never voluntarily live with someone, except this fairy named Peyton. After sharing a prison cell for years, I vowed to live alone forever. But everything changed when I saw her in the road.
Peyton swallows and I watch the play of muscle on her throat the way a cat observes a canary. “That’s really kind of you, Granger.” I have to swallow a groan. That’s the first time she’s said my name out loud. Fuck. My cock is so hard, it’s giving me a toothache. “But…after what happened tonight, I think, um…I think I’d be a little nervous living with a-a man. I hope you’re not offended. I know nothing about you that would suggest you’re anything like Tony. You actually saved me tonight. I’m so grateful for your help. But…but…”