Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Nooooooooooo! Not that!
I want to die.
He moves a little closer and I have a strong urge to leap into his arms and erase all the distance between us. He’s close enough that I can smell his rugged cologne, but it still feels like there’s an ocean between us. I don’t think I could ever get close enough to this guy to be satisfied.
“You came back?” I ask with a shaky voice. “I don’t think Carl will let you back in.”
“I never left.”
I gulp.
“You… waited here? For what?”
But I already know. I can feel it inside.
“For you,” he says as his blue eyes bore into mine. God, I want to run my hand through his blond hair so freaking badly. “I waited for you.”
We stare at each other for a long moment and the spring air charges with electricity all around us. I can feel the sparks tickling my skin.
“What did you mean when you said… I’m yours?” I ask him.
He steps up close and I suck in a breath. My lungs stop working as he reaches up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
“I mean what I said.” Fuck, his voice is like sex for the ears. “You belong to me.”
“I do?”
I’m standing there staring up at him like a dope. I should storm out of here like the feminist I thought I was. I should tell him that no man owns me. That I belong to no one but myself.
But I can’t. I want to be his. My whole body is begging me to submit to his every desire.
I can’t explain it. I don’t understand any of these intense emotions swirling through me.
“You do,” he answers in a deep territorial voice that fills me with lust. I want him to pick me up with those big strong hands, throw me into his truck, bring me home to his bed, and do every naughty thing that’s racing through my mind right now. “Your sweet lips are mine alone to kiss. Your hands won’t touch another man’s skin but mine. We’re mates, Kimberly. Now. Forever. We belong to each other. You’re mine. I’m yours. That’s how it is.”
He says it with such certainty that I can’t dare to question it. I already believe every word he said.
“You’re a bear shifter?”
He slowly nods his head up and down.
His possessive blue eyes are locked on me, making my heart pang, making my breath quicken, making my pussy even wetter.
“And you think I’m your mate?”
“You are my mate,” he quickly corrects. “Can’t you feel it?”
I do. There’s something between us that’s growing with every second this beautiful man is in front of me. A connection, a bond, a something that I don’t want to let go of just yet. I want to explore it and feel it some more.
An older couple pulls into the parking lot and excuses themselves as they walk past us to the front door.
“Maybe we should talk about this somewhere else,” I say when I remember that I’m standing in front of my place of work. And with the heated way this sexy rugged man is looking at me, I don’t want to be in view of my coworkers when what I’m hoping is about to happen next happens.
“Let’s take a walk,” he says as he wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me away from the diner. “We can get to know each other.”
“Okay,” I say as his hand slides over mine. My heart does a little flip when he takes it.
Feeling his skin on mine sends a jolt straight to my throbbing clit. My core clenches as I feel his strong fingers wrap around my hand.
“So, you’re a fireman?” I ask. “And a bear shifter?”
He nods.
What the hell? Did I just win the single woman lottery or something? How did I get all the luck?
He tells me about his family that lives in three towns over—his parents and two younger sisters. He moved to Blackcloud Point when he saw that the firehouse was hiring. Him and Blake had hit it off right away and he offered him the job.
“And what about you?” he asks. “Where have you been hiding from me all of these years?”
I smile as his grip on my hand tightens.
“I’m actually from Canada. Manitoba.”
“Why did you leave? Did you have a bad experience up there?”
I notice his body tighten as he waits for my answer. This man is already so protective of me, ready to run off and hunt down anyone from my past who’s ever treated me poorly. I don’t have anyone who fits that description, except maybe Jenny Collins, the bitch who bullied me in the ninth grade.
“No, it was fine,” I say, opening up to him as we walk over a quiet bridge that arches over a lazy river. “Just boring. I felt a pull to come down here, so I did. And then I found the awesome excitement that is Carl’s Diner.”