Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Clint glares at me, then starts toward the hallway, forgetting to lead his bride. Taylor shuffles after him, her feet padding softly against the hardwood floor. They make such an odd-looking pair that I shake my head.
When they’re out of earshot, I turn to Jesse. “This is going to end in disaster.” I shake my head.
He scowls, blocking out any alternative view to his own. “For a man who spends his life acting the joker, you sure are one miserable asshole today.”
4
CLINT
CLAIMING WHAT’S MINE
Taylor stands in my bedroom, clasping her arms across her body. She looks as excited to be here as a cow being ushered into the slaughterhouse.
God only knows what I look like right now.
I swipe my hand through my hair, frustration burning inside me. If I didn’t owe Jesse my life, there’s no way I’d have agreed to his stupid-ass plan. We’ll find a wife, he said. We need someone to help around the house. Someone to bring a feminine touch to the place. He has other ideas, too. Ideas he hasn’t chosen to share with the poor girl practically cowering near the doorway.
I know what I need to do. I need to make this marriage official, and I need to make Taylor feel good about it. I’m a terrible person in a lot of ways, but I draw the line at making a woman do something she doesn’t want to do. I mean, she’s here. She’s chosen to go through with a wedding. She’s not so innocent that she doesn’t know what happens between a husband and his wife. Sex ed is a requirement in all high schools, isn’t it? But we haven’t even kissed yet. How the hell am I supposed to lead her into comfortable-feeling sex?
“Close the door,” I tell her as I unbutton the cuffs of my smart button-down. The stiff collar has been strangling me all day.
Taylor’s almost a blur as she moves to carry out my instruction.
“This must be strange for you.”
She shrugs her shoulders, returning to her defensive pose.
“But you want this, right? You want a husband?”
She bites her lip, and her throat moves in an almighty swallow, then she nods.
“Right. Good.” I moisten my bottom lip with my tongue. “Come here.”
I continue unbuttoning my shirt, tugging it from my body, and tossing it over a chair. By the time Taylor crosses the room, her cheeks are flushed red, and her mouth is pressed into a worried line.
“You look like you’ve never seen a man without a shirt before?”
“I have.”
“Have you done this before?” I nod towards the bed. I hope she has. Breaking a virgin would make this whole situation even more of a challenge.
She confirms that she has, with a small nod, but nothing about her body language screams experience. I touch her cheek, and the heat of her blush warms my palm. She has pretty pink lips with a defined V in the center. I let my thumb brush over it, and Taylor’s eyelids droop in response.
The white dress Jesse bought her is pretty but shapeless, hanging from below her bustline and finishing mid-calf. It’s hard to make out her form beneath. I touch the strap on her shoulder, and she shivers.
I tip her chin, so she’s forced to look up at me. She must be five-four, and I’m over six-two, so there’s a lot of height difference between us. She’s not a waif, though. She has curves and a softness about her that is warm and appealing, the feminine opposite of all the places I’m big, rough, and hard.
It’s been a while since I’ve been with a woman. There are plenty in town who are happy for me to warm their bed for a night and maybe want more, but I never leave feeling anything other than emptiness. They don’t know the real me. If they did, they wouldn’t like who I am or what I did.
It’s going to be the same with Taylor. She doesn’t know me, so this process will be empty—just two bodies moving against each other. There will be pleasure involved—I never leave a woman wanting—but that doesn’t make for a connection—at least, it won’t for me.
When I move the strap from Taylor’s shoulder, she looks to the side, watching for what I might do next. It’s time to get this girl naked.
My cock stirs despite my reservations. Jesus. I’d have to be dead not to get rock hard at the thought of sliding between Taylor’s warm, thick thighs. That was the first thing I noticed about her when she shuffled onto the stage, before her pretty eyes and heart-shaped face, before her lilting voice and sweet attempts to appeal to the men in the place with her homely skills.
When I slide the other strap down, I tug so the dress drops beneath her breasts, and she sucks in a whooshing breath of surprise at the speed. Her tits are perfect creamy handfuls with rosy nipples that are already hard.