Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
I got sprung.
I cursed and went right for a bottle of whiskey. I grabbed a glass and poured myself a huge drink. Then I tipped my head back and swallowed.
“Can I have one?”
I hadn’t heard her come up behind me. I cursed, glancing over my shoulder.
“Aren’t you a little young?”
Her chin came up and I groaned at how pretty she looked. No makeup. No fancy clothes. Just her. It was not fair. Nobody should look that good. Ever.
“That’s sexist. You didn’t think so when I was a fifteen-year-old boy.”
I laughed. “Sixteen.”
“What?”
I grabbed her a glass and poured whiskey into it, knowing I was playing with fire. Knowing, and somehow not giving a good goddamn.
“I thought you were sixteen.”
She took the glass I offered and looked down. I leaned against the counter and did the same. She was nervously rubbing two of her toes together. It was the cutest damn thing I’d seen in my life. And now that she was standing, I got a really good look at those legs of hers. Long, lean, but curvy.
Once again, perfect.
I knew I’d be haunted by those legs for a while. Hell, I’d remember them for the rest of my natural-born life. I’d be haunted by every bit of her.
Especially her fucking toes.
I took a swallow and looked the rest of her over. She was utterly feminine. I nearly choked when I noticed how busty she was.
“What the hell were you doing to yourself?” I burst out, completely oblivious to how inappropriate that was.
She blushed furiously and I immediately felt like a jackass. Hell, I was a jackass. How could I not have noticed that a ridiculously gorgeous almost nineteen-year-old girl was living under my nose?
“I used Ace bandages.”
I stared at her blankly.
“Bandages?”
She chewed her lip nervously.
“You know. So I was flat.”
My fucking jaw dropped open. I couldn’t help it. My eyes went right to her cleavage. Her silky, round, fucking delicious-looking cleavage. I forced myself to close my eyes, shaking my head like I could erase the memory of her glorious fucking tits.
I couldn’t.
And I’d only seen an inch of them.
“Sorry. I just . . .” I ran my hand through my hair. “I’m just new to all of this.”
She laughed nervously.
“I’m the one who is sorry. I didn’t mean to lie.”
“I know that.”
“At first, it was just a habit. To keep me safe.”
I frowned, watching her intently. It hadn’t kept her safe. Though I guess if those assholes at the club had known she was girl, it could have been worse. A lot worse.
Her fear of perverts came back all at once, hitting me like a ton of bricks. It had been bad enough to think of a boy getting messed with. But someone hurting this beautiful girl . . . I felt a fury unlike any I had ever known.
She stood there, looking like a barefoot angel while I imagined all kinds of horrible, filthy things that someone might have tried to do to her. Hell, I was thinking about doing filthy things with her myself and I was not a pervert.
Not that kind, anyway.
“I didn’t mean to keep on lying to you. I just didn’t know how to bring it up.”
My eyes snapped back to hers. I’d been checking her out again. I couldn’t seem to help it. I felt like a huge piece of shit for ogling her like that, but those curves of hers were impossible to ignore.
“‘Oh, hi. I’m really a girl!’” she mimicked, and I cracked a smile. She was still the same spunky kid I’d grown to care for. Just legally an adult. And so beautiful it hurt to look at her.
Especially now that she had this crazy, hopeful look in those mesmerizing blue eyes of hers.
“I think Mason is still going to let me work there. I can find another place to live. I just need to save up a little and—”
“Forget it. I said you could stay.”
“When I was a boy,” she challenged, raising her eyebrows. Damn, she was straightforward. She was letting me off the hook, I knew.
Too damn bad I didn’t want to be let off the hook. I wanted the whole hook. Hell, if I was a swordfish, I would swim directly into her net, even knowing that I was going to end up on a plate.
Hook, line, and sinker made perfect sense to me now.
The truth was, I wanted to wrap my arms around her and never let her go. I wanted to do a whole lot more, but I wanted to start with that.
Fuck. Me.
I stared at her, still trying to reconcile the fucking flawless beauty standing in front of me with the bundle of rags I’d found in the back of the clubhouse four weeks ago. I still had the same protective feelings I’d had before. If anything, they were magnified.