Total pages in book: 10
Estimated words: 8869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 44(@200wpm)___ 35(@250wpm)___ 30(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 8869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 44(@200wpm)___ 35(@250wpm)___ 30(@300wpm)
“Tell me your name, beautiful,” he demands, his voice washing over me. He has a slight accent that has me hanging on to his every word. Up close, he’s even hotter than he was through the window. My heart is beating so fast, there are butterflies in my tummy, and lower still, I’m throbbing in my panties. All of these sensations at once is new to me and I take a step closer to him. His cologne is woodsy and manly. A lumberjack like the ones in the romance novels I sneak come to mind.
“Adriel.”
“Adriel,” he whispers like a prayer, and I melt just a little bit more.
“Do you have a name?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything.
“Manuel, but everyone calls me MJ.”
“Manuel,” I repeat, loving the name. For some reason, I don’t want to be in the same category as everyone else.
“Will you have dinner with me?” he asks. I look down at myself, realizing that I am in my pajamas, which are really just an oversize sweatshirt and a pair of black leggings. I had just stepped outside for some fresh air when Manuel appeared out of nowhere. We had just sat down to dinner when he started in on me. I am not even sure what I did to piss him off, but I just couldn’t take it anymore. At the front door, I pulled on a pair of my sneakers and threw the front door open. I didn’t even care that my father was still yelling at me as I slammed it behind me. Of course, my first instinct was to cry in frustration. I always do that, making people think I can’t handle anything.
“I should change first,” I hedge, but I really don’t want to go back inside and face my father. I know he thinks that he’s doing what’s best for me, but I don’t need his help anymore. I am a grown-ass woman, and I am suffocating. Why can’t he see that? Why can’t my mother?
“You look gorgeous just like that, Adriel. We have pizza over at the house, or I could take you somewhere casual. Whatever you want to do. I just want to get to know you better,” he says, looking at me expectantly.
“Anywhere is fine with me,” I tell him.
“Come on, beautiful,” he says, holding his hand out to me. I take it without hesitation. He leads me across the street, directly into the open garage. Along one side is the SUV they drove up in. On the other side is four huge motorcycles. He grabs a bright pink helmet from the counter and a black one. “You ever been on a bike before?”
“No,” I answer honestly as he gently puts the pink helmet on my head, his huge hot hands touching my cheeks as he buckles the strap under my chin. “Who’s helmet is this?” I’m irrationally jealous that he’s putting another girl’s helmet on me. He just grins at me.
“Don’t be jealous, Addy,” he says, giving me a nickname. That is something no one else has ever done. I’ve always been Adriel or, on rare occasions, Adriel Grace. I like Addy coming from him. It’s special. “It’s my mother’s spare helmet. She won’t mind you using it. She’s all about safety. And before you get all worked up, I don’t have a girl. Never have. We should get one thing out there now just in case you haven’t figured it out yet: you're gonna be mine, Adriel. All fucking mine. We can tip-toe around the inevitable all day if you want to, but what’s the point? There is something between us; heat, fire, passion simmering below the surface, ready to boil. It was there the second our eyes locked earlier t I know you feel it too, that’s why your prim and proper ass took my hand and followed me across the street. It’s why you are still here now. You’re mine and you know it.” He’s not wrong. I felt it. I knew he was going to be important the second I saw him and he’s just confirmed it. I’ve never believed in fate, soulmates, or even love, but he has me believing that anything is possible with him. When he leans forward and places his lips on mine, I freeze. Obviously, I’ve never kissed a man. It wouldn’t have been proper, but right now, with him, it not only feels proper… it’s perfect. It’s raw and it consumes me. I don’t want it to stop but like all things, it eventually does. I don’t know how long it lasted. All I can think about it how I can make him do it again. Make him do more to me. I want it all. I want him. I’ve never been more thankful for my public school education than I am right now. Besides what I was taught in human growth and development, teenagers talk.