Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
"Sucks to be you," my twin says. "I'll call Dillon. Where are you?"
"Broadway and Broadus."
"I'll swing by when I'm finished here to see if you're finished there," he says.
"Yeah, thanks." I end the call, my eyes locked on the petite brunette who pops out of the Honda with her hands pressed to her red cheeks in a combination of horror and distress that does strange things to my heart. Even upset, she's beautiful. Her tits practically spill out of her tiny shirt, which ends well before it should. She's showing far too much of that curvy body.
"Jesus," I rumble, scrubbing a hand down my face as my dick presses up against my zipper.
My eyes roam across every inch of her, taking in her porcelain skin and the adorable freckles that litter her like a roadmap to heaven. She's paired her tiny cut-off shirt with a pair of gray sweats that swallow her bottom half. Part of me is relieved. The rest of me is mad as hell that I can't see the rest of her gorgeous body.
Her vivid blue eyes lock with mine through the windshield. My dick thumps against my zipper, a growl vibrating behind my lips. Mine. Whoever she is, she's mine.
Ah, goddammit.
This is not happening.
I hop out of the truck, stomping toward the curvy little beauty who just backed into me.
"Are you okay?" she cries, rushing forward to meet me. "I didn't see you behind me!"
"You didn't see me behind you?" I plant my feet, crossing my arms. "I'm in a fucking truck. How'd you miss me?"
"There was a turtle, and you're not supposed to interfere with turtles. I think it's against the law," she says. "I was trying to save his life."
"He could have gone around you."
"I didn't think of that," she admits, her shoulders drooping. "I can pay for the damage to your truck."
We both glance over at it at the same time. The rental truck is mostly fine. The headlight is cracked, and there's a scratch across the fender. But the bumper of her car is busted all to hell, and her taillight is shattered.
"It's a rental," I mutter.
"Who rents a monster truck?" she asks, her nose scrunched up as she turns back to me. "That's not very cost-efficient." And then she seems to notice me for the first time. Her long lashes flutter over those gorgeous blue eyes as they climb up my body, her lips parting in a little "O".
"See something you like?" I smirk, unable to help myself. I like the way she's looking at me like she's never seen anything like me before. The expression on her face is doing a number on my cock.
"What? No. You're just huge," she stutters. "I mean, you're big." She huffs out an adorable breath, waving a hand in the air in my direction. "I mean, obviously, you rented a monster truck. You're like eight feet tall and muscly."
"Muscly?" I chuckle, amused as hell. I know what I look like, and I'm not a fitness model. I'm fit, sure. But I'm not ripped. I'm just brawny by nature. It runs in the family. To this girl, I probably do look eight feet tall, but I'm closer to six-two.
"Please stop talking now," she whispers.
"You talking to me or to yourself?"
"Both. Definitely both." She presses her hands to her overheated cheeks, staring at me with wide eyes.
Fuck me, she's cute as a little kitten. I bet she's cuddly as one too.
"My name is Xavier Grimes."
"Of course you have a cool name, too," she sighs dramatically, and then her brows furrow. "Wait. Grimes, why do I know that name?"
"My twin brother lives in town. Tate Grimes."
"The pediatric surgeon?" she asks, paling slightly.
"That'd be the one."
"You're twins?"
Why does she look sick at the thought?
"We are. He called the sheriff for us. A car should be here soon to take a report," I murmur, taking her elbow and leading her toward the trees on the side of the road where it's safer. Traffic through here isn't particularly fast, but people like to gawp. I'd rather not have her passing out and getting hit by some asshole trying to get a better look at her tits in that tiny shirt. "Why don't you sit down? Where's your insurance shit? I'll get it for you."
"You called the cops?" she squeaks.
"Uh, yeah. Your car is fucked, and I'm in a rental."
"I would have paid to fix it," she cries, jerking her arm from mine to glare at me in accusation.
And suddenly, I feel like the asshole here. "It's a rental, kitten. The company will need a report."
"I…don't have insurance," she blurts.
"You're driving without insurance."
"And a license." She seems proud of herself, though I have no idea why.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to convince myself that spanking her ass on the side of the road is likely to land us both in jail before the day is over. Public indecency is still a crime in all fifty states. So is driving without insurance and a license. "Why are you driving without insurance and a license?" I growl.