Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
I glance around, checking for Sheriff Midnight. He's here somewhere. I saw him earlier. If I motion him over…
Jesus. I'm an asshole.
But desperate times, right?
These are the most desperate of times.
My future wife is standing in front of me, unsure if she wants to flee into the night with me.
Help. Me.
My gaze flies back to hers when I feel her hand drop into mine.
"You better not have bodies in the basement, Drake Whitlock." She scowls up at me, those big cinnamon eyes making it hard to think straight when she's touching me.
My future wife is touching me. I mean, it's not my cock, but her hand is on me, motherfuckers.
"I swear to God, if you add mine to the collection," she continues, "I will be the most annoying ghost ever to haunt your freaking mansion."
"So, murder you in the woods instead of the house, got it," I reply, unable to resist teasing her when she makes it so easy.
She squeaks, staring at me with wide eyes.
Shit. I shouldn't have said that.
"Just kidding." I practically haul her toward the front of the bar before my stupid sense of humor manages to send her fleeing into the night. I just got her to agree to go home with me. There's no way I'm fucking it up now.
I need her madly in love with me and pregnant with at least two of my kids before she realizes I'm an idiot. Less chance of her leaving me for someone better if she loves me and has my babies by the time she figures out that I'm just a desperate man willing to do shady shit to get close to her.
"Stupid fake spiders," she mumbles under her breath, practically plastering herself up against me to avoid the display stretching across the foyer. The poor little unicorn even trembles against me.
I slip an arm around her waist, anchoring her to me…reveling in the heat of her body up against me. Fucking Christ. She feels incredible—so soft and warm. My entire body shoots off sparks, and every damn one goes straight to my cock.
I didn't know it was humanly possible to want to cuddle the fuck out of someone and fuck them raw at the same time. And yet, that's precisely how I feel right now.
Maybe the first time I fuck her, I'll do it with her in my lap so I can hold her while she's wrapped around my cock and moaning my name.
Huh. The plan has merit.
The cool night air hits us in the face as soon as we're through the doors, making her shiver. She takes one look at Steele, one of the few people who doesn't annoy the fuck out of me, and draws up short.
"Guess you figured it out, huh?" he asks, humor dancing in his eyes when they land on her.
She lifts her adorable button nose in the air, a haughty look on her face. "In case no one ever told you before now, you suck."
Steele throws his head back and roars with laughter.
She sniffs at him, clearly unamused. "What's your name?"
"Asa Steele."
"We're enemies now, Asa Steele."
"Yeah?" He grins from ear to ear. "Cool. I've always wanted a mythical creature as an enemy."
"Cool. Sleep with one eye open."
"Yes, ma'am," he says, chuckling.
I lead her away, fighting a smile. She's fucking cute when she's pissed. And let's be honest, it's hard to take a cranky unicorn seriously. "What was that about?"
"He told me I had a cute costume," she mutters. "He could have told me this was a masquerade, but no. He left that part out. I guess he thought he'd just let me figure it out for myself for his amusement. Big jerk."
"Ah." I scratch my beard to hide a smile. That sounds like Steele. He's been raising hell in this town since…well, for fucking ever, actually. "So we're killing him too."
She eyes me suspiciously. "You're awful willing to commit murder and mayhem for me, Drake."
"Isn't it the season for it?"
"It's never the season for murder."
"It's Halloween, Madeline."
She snorts indelicately, making me laugh out loud. "Which is the most cliché season of all to murder someone, if you ask me. Murder at Halloween. Oh, scary." She rolls her big brown eyes.
"So, murder at Halloween doesn't scare you," I murmur, popping the locks on the truck as I lead her across the packed parking lot, her hand still firmly caught in mine. "What does scare you?"
She eyes me sideways. "Uh, are you crazy? Murder at Halloween scares me. Murder anytime scares me. I'm just saying Halloween murder is cliché."
"But you're going to kill your cousin," I remind her.
"Oh, yes. He's definitely gotta go." She bobs her head for emphasis, making me laugh again. Maybe it's the furry tail swishing along behind her or the sparkly horn bopping along on top of her head, I don't know. But fucking hell, she's so goddamn cute when she's being savage.