Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
We walk around the pond as Lucky sniffs at the edges, sometimes pawing at the water, looking back at us with a smile on his face. It’s like he’s asking us if he’s doing a good job, and my heart gives a shiver every time Dom calls over to him with some assuring words.
Dom stands so close to me his arm sometimes brushing up against me, stony, rock solid, making me think of how hard the rest of his body must be. I want to grab his shoulder and slide my hand over to his chest, bunching my fists against his shirt, digging my fingernails through to feel how unyielding his behemoth’s chest is.
“You didn’t answer my question before,” he says interrupting our comfortable silence.
That’s weird, right?
We’re walking in comfortable silence, as though we’re a couple who doesn’t feel the need to fill every moment with conversation. I’ve never experienced that with a man before, but, heck, that’s not exactly saying much.
I haven’t experienced anything with a man before, really, when you get right down to it.
“What question?” I murmur.
“About why you wanted to leave the veterinary clinic. You strike me as a woman with dreams, passion.”
“I do?” I murmur, risking a glance at him to find his dark intense eyes burning into me as if he’s completely captivated by me as if the rest of the world doesn’t exist.
“Yes,” he growls.
“Why?” I laugh awkwardly, wishing I could handle this situation with the aplomb that seems to come so easily to other women. “I mean, we only just met.”
That sounds like a twisted joke.
I wasn’t even aware of this man’s existence until my boss came to me with the job opportunity, and I didn’t even lay eyes on him until earlier today, and yet I feel as if I’ve known this man my whole life.
Every husky breath he takes makes me think of him as a protective beast, ready to do what’s necessary to keep our family safe… a thought he’d laugh harshly at if I told him about it, mocking me for my naivety.
“In my business, reading people is a necessity,” he says gruffly. “And you, Daniella, are filled with passion. I don’t know how I know. I just know. So why?”
I find myself wringing my hands again, squeezing them tightly together, discomfited when I realize how sweaty I am. If I were to grab him like something deep inside of me screams for, what would he say?
He wouldn’t groan like I wish he would.
He wouldn’t pull me close to him, mashing our eager bodies together, before claiming my lips.
He’d call me disgusting. He’d tell me to get control of myself.
“Hey, Dreamer,” he says. “Did you hear me?”
My skin buzzes when he aims the nickname at me, a tingle moving between my thighs, caressing my sex.
“Dreamer?” I giggle.
I risk another glance at him to find him smirking down at me, and then—
Crap.
I need to watch where I’m going.
Before I know it, I’ve tripped on a small stone and I’m hurtling toward the ground like the clumsiest person in the universe.
Dom loops his arm around me quickly, hauling me upright, and then he keeps his hands on me. One hand on the small of my back and the other on my shoulder, bracing me against him.
His jaw is tight and his eyes seem to shoot flames as he gazes down at me.
“See, the name fits. You’re too busy daydreaming to look where you’re going. So that’s what I’m going to call you now… Dreamer.”
His warm breath caresses my cheek when he speaks the nickname again, tingling up and down my body, making me want to squeeze my legs together with the desire thrumming through me.
He lets me go a moment later.
If I didn’t know how ridiculous it is, I’d think it took him an effort to release me, as though he wants to keep us pushed close together.
His hands leave warm phantom imprints on my skin, pressing through the fabric of my clothes like a promise.
“So?” he says, as we continue to walk. “What is your dream, Dreamer?”
“Okay,” I say, waving my hands for no other reason than there’s too much anxious energy surging around me. “I have got a dream, as a matter of fact.”
“Go on,” he says, sounding genuinely interested.
I swallow, praying he’s not mocking me in some way I can’t discern right now.
“I want to open a dog sanctuary,” I say. “And for that I need money, so when I saw this job, I knew I couldn’t pass it up. I get to work with animals still, but my board is paid for, so I can save my wages. I don’t want it to be a dog shelter, where dogs are rescued… I mean, people can adopt the dogs if they want. But I want the sanctuary to be a place where the dogs can stay and grow old if they need to. I want them to be happy there. I want them to be able to find a place to call home, a place…”