Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
I think this one might.
"You should go inside and let me finish up out here."
"Why?" I know exactly why, but I ask anyway.
"Because if you keep looking at me like that while wearing those fucking shorts, the only thing I'm going to be drilling into this wall is you. Get in the house, Makenzie."
Well…I guess I asked for that, didn't I?
Wait a minute.
"Did you just call me Makenzie?" I growl.
"It's your name, isn't it?"
"No one calls me Makenzie."
A slow smile spreads across his face, wicked intent plain as day in his eyes. "Then I guess it's a good thing I'm not just anyone, isn't it, angel baby? Get in the house. We'll talk when I'm finished."
Any other day, I'd give him a piece of my mind for telling me what to do like he has the right. But apparently, today is not that day. He growls his order at me. And to my shock…I obey.
Chapter Three
Zion
Makenzie Baird is going to be a problem. Scratch that. Makenzie Baird is already a problem. Because the sun isn't even up yet, but my dick certainly is. He stood at attention and waved the white flag as soon as she opened her smart mouth.
Fuck me. I knew she was gorgeous. I spent half of last night scrolling her feed. But people online wear masks. They hide who they are behind filters and enough goddamn Photoshop to completely obscure the reality. Not Makenzie. The gorgeous little spitfire from her photos is precisely the same woman who tumbled out her back door and into my arms this morning.
There's an innocence to her beauty that's breathtaking. There's strength in it too. Both reflect in her bright green eyes and vivacious smile. And don't even get me started on that body. Sweet Christ.
I thought when Madden hired us to protect a model, she'd be some tiny, delicate little thing. Fuck no. This girl is a goddamn wet dream. She's stacked everywhere, with a round ass, thick thighs, and a soft little body I want to sink my teeth into.
I'm not ashamed to admit I jerked off to her feed last night. And then didn't sleep a wink, waiting for the sun to rise. I gave up about four and decided to get my shit together and get over here.
The fact that she didn't hear me out here concerns the hell out of me. I've been drilling holes and banging around for an hour. Her nearest neighbor is far enough away to be no help if anything were to happen out here. They wouldn't even hear her screaming.
The way I see it, she's lucky Madden hired me. Her security is complete shit. With Lyle Taggert on the loose, she needs me in her corner, handling business…which I fully intend to do as soon as humanly possible.
It takes another fifteen minutes to get the camera installed. Actually, it takes five to get the camera installed. It takes ten more for my dick to soften enough to make walking comfortable. I rap on the backdoor, even though she's been glaring at me out of it for the last five minutes.
Sadly, she's dressed. It's a damn shame, really.
"You might as well come in," she mumbles, throwing the door open for me with a huff that lets me know exactly how she feels about being saddled with my big ass. "Wait." She throws her arm out, blocking the door before I can cross over the threshold. "No cameras inside my house."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want people seeing things they shouldn't."
"People?"
"Those things get hacked all the time. And the next thing you know, some murderer is showing up on your doorstep to kidnap you because he's been watching you get naked on camera for a year."
"You're mixing your crimes."
"What?"
"Most murders don't involve kidnapping first. Too much work." I slip a hand around her waist, gently shifting her out of the way. Within seconds, I'm standing in her living room, looking around while she splutters behind me. Her house is cute. I don't know how the fuck women do it, but everything they touch turns to magic. Her place is an old farmhouse with an open floorplan, but the damn thing looks like a million bucks. Bright colors mix with soft fabrics and plush rugs giving it a welcoming, comforting vibe.
"You need an invitation before you just come inside, Zion."
"I'm your bodyguard, baby. Not a vampire."
She mumbles something that I don't catch.
"What was that?"
"I said I can't tell the difference," she repeats, batting her lashes at me as she pushes the back door closed. "No cameras in my house."
"No cameras in the house," I agree. I intend to fuck her on every flat surface in this place. There's no goddamn way I'm risking one of my brother's watching that footage. Aside from the fact that I don't want either of those assholes seeing her naked, we have a rule about dating clients. It's the first one in the handbook, matter of fact. I have every intention of breaking it six ways to Sunday. But I'd prefer they didn't know that just yet.