Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 116760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
It doesn’t matter that Bluebelle is funny and caring and kind of lonely . . . people just seem to see what they want to see.
But then she meets Corbin.
He’s different from everyone else.
Intelligent. Sexy. Surprisingly dominant.
Will he figure out that not everything in her life is what it seems?
He’s more comfortable behind a computer screen than out on the field . . .
This job should have been simple and easy.
Only no one told his charge that.
Bebe is complete chaos.
Gorgeous. Sweet. And a bit reckless.
What she needs is a Daddy to love her, keep her safe, and occasionally put her over his knee…
And Corbin decides that he is just the man for the job.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
Corbin McIntyre was in no mood to get groped.
The woman sitting next to him had just placed her hand on his thigh. And if she moved it two inches to the right, she’d be cupping his dick.
He quickly slid off the stool at the bar and glared at her.
Pouting, she leaned toward him. She stunk of a mix of body odor and whiskey.
Jesus, she was drunk as a skunk.
Glancing over, he saw that Noah had already clocked how far gone she was. He frowned, nodding at Corbin.
“Hey, come back here,” she pleaded. “I wasn’t finished.”
“Yeah, you are,” he said firmly. “You need to keep your hands to yourself. You can’t go around touching whoever you like.”
“But you’re so cute, and look at me.” She pushed out her chest. “You want me.”
Dear Lord.
All he’d wanted was a quiet drink.
This morning, he’d realized that he hadn’t left Sanctuary Ranch in over a month. So he’d come out tonight to feel like he had something of a social life.
Not to get assaulted by a drunk woman.
“Come on,” she wheedled. “At least buy me a drink.”
“You’re cut off, Mary-Anne,” Noah said from the other side of the bar.
“What? You can’t do that!” Mary-Anne cried.
“Considering I own this place, yeah, I can,” Noah replied. “Are you here with Roger? Or should I call you a ride?”
Mary-Anne snorted, climbing off her stool. She swayed, and Corbin had to reach out and grab her before she fell to the floor.
“My hero,” she said before she burped.
Noah snorted and started moving around the end of the bar just as someone approached from Corbin’s right.
“What the hell are you doing with my wife?” a deep voice boomed.
Corbin sighed. Great. That was all he needed. A jealous husband.
He was not winning tonight.
“Be quiet, Roger! Leave my new boyfriend alone,” Mary-Anne slurred.
Corbin stepped away with his hands up. Thankfully, she managed to stay upright this time.
“I’m not her boyfriend, man. I don’t even know her. I was just trying to stop her from falling on her face.”
“I saw the two of you cozying up at the bar,” Roger accused.
He was similar in height to Corbin but about a hundred pounds heavier and thick with muscle.
“Look, man, I don’t know what to tell you. But I’m not interested in her.”
The other man’s face started to grow red. He had a thick, dark beard and hair.
“Roger, there’s nothing going on here,” Noah said, walking up to them.
“Not interested?” Roger snarled. “Why aren’t you interested in my Mary-Anne? Are you saying there’s something wrong with her?”
“I’m going to be sick,” Mary-Anne slurred. Right before she threw up.
All over his boots.
Yeah, he definitely wasn’t winning tonight.
Half an hour later, his boots clean and his head thumping with a headache, Corbin headed outside to his truck.
His first mistake had been leaving the Ranch.
His second mistake was grabbing Mary-Anne when she started to fall.
Even after vomiting all over the floor and his boots, with her mammoth of a boyfriend next to her, she’d still been coming onto him.
Noah had finally gotten them both out the door, but by then, Corbin’s quiet night had been ruined.
So he was giving up and heading home after half a beer.
A noise caught his attention.
There was someone watching him, but he forced himself to keep moving.
He had the feeling he was about to be jumped.
Pausing, he dropped down to one knee to do up his shoelace. Of course, he was wearing boots, so there weren’t actually any shoe laces to do up.
But whoever was stalking him didn’t need to know that.
There. To his right. Someone was trying to creep up on him. They were doing a shit job, though.
They probably thought that the darkness covered them. But before coming to work for Jensen Security International, Corbin used to be in the CIA, where he’d participated in a number of Black Ops.
While most of his work was now conducted behind a desk, he was no slouch when it came to hand-to-hand combat.
The CIA sometimes still called on him for his skills, but that was all very hush-hush.
“I’d warn you against attacking me,” he called out. “Whatever you’re hoping to gain, you won’t get it.”
Standing, he stepped back and to his right as his stalker decided to run at him. The guy obviously wasn’t expecting him to be that fast, so his punch went wild, making him stumble.
His attacker was a big guy wearing a mask.
A suspicion formed as he moved his weight from foot to foot, waiting for the guy to regain his balance and come at him again.
Sure, he could have gone after him while he was stumbling around like a newborn elephant.
But where was the fun in that?
“Is that all you’ve got,” Corbin baited him. “You’re out of your league.”
The attacker let out a low rumble and ran at him again. Just as Corbin thought. He likely relied on his size to win any fights he got into, not his skills. And he let his temper get the best of him.