Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 198(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 198(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
Is it too much too fast? Definitely, but who gives a fuck. Teagan needs someone to care for her just as much as I need to take care of her—with every hard, pulsing inch of my being.
That’s a hell of a lot of inches.
“Consider this house your home now,” I tell her. “You’re safe here.”
My eyes stalk her as she paces the perimeter of the room, her gaze gliding over every piece of décor. I’ve always considered myself a realist, but I know in my bones that she’s been brought here for a reason, and that reason has everything to do with me. She’s had a rough life, that much is clear. But that all ends today. Teagan’s never going to have to worry about finding a place to sleep or food to eat. She’ll never have to feel lost or cold or lonely.
And I swear to God, if any man tries to touch her, if he even so much as looks at her a second longer than I think is necessary, I’ll break his fucking neck.
She stops in front of the crystal hummingbird, her fingers hooked on the edge of the bureau. An hour ago, I would’ve assumed she was sizing up its value, but it’s obvious now that she’s simply admiring the bird’s beauty. Either way, it doesn’t matter, because from the moment she walked through the door, what’s mine became hers. She can’t steal what already belongs to her.
“Thank you,” she says. Her voice is soft as silk and a little scratchy, probably from lack of use.
I bet she sounds like an angel when she comes.
My cock flexes, leaking precum into my boxers at the thought of throwing her over my shoulder and carrying her to my bedroom like some kind of caveman. Even the slight pressure of my own hand against my shaft has my balls aching; I can think of at least three places they’d like to unload, all somewhere in the vicinity of the girl in front of me.
I’ve never reacted this intensely to a woman I’ve just met. The fact that I haven’t dated in over three years could explain it, but I know it’s more than that. It’s Teagan. She arouses something in me, an all-consuming need to protect and defend.
She meets my gaze straight on for the first time. My resolve cracks like thin ice over deep water; one more step from either of us and we’ll both go down.
There’ll be no stopping me from ripping those little shorts off and putting my mouth on her.
I cage my tongue behind my teeth and remind myself that I can’t just throw her on the bed and claim her. Not with my sister waiting downstairs with the birthday cake.
That reminds me: yesterday was Teagan’s birthday. She’s eighteen years old.
Thank the fucking Lord she didn’t show up at my house two days ago.
“You’re welcome,” I tell her.
Walking away from her is like slowly ripping off a Band Aid and pulling out hair. Still, I force my feet to move in the direction of the open door, away from Teagan’s tight body and angelic face.
At the last second, I glance back to tell her, “Happy birthday.”
Her mouth twitches at the corners like she’s trying to remember how to smile.
Chapter Five
Teagan
When Mary said she was going to find me a place to stay, I figured she meant another group home, or a co-worker with a fold-out couch in their den. But the house we pulled up to was nice. Really nice. Nicer than any house I’ve ever stayed in.
The other homes in this neighborhood are just as big and probably just as impressive on the inside, but as soon we turned into the driveway, this one felt different. It wasn’t just the little things, like the small stained-glass windows above the garage, and the silvery gray roof shingles that reminded me of mermaid scales.
It was the man inside.
Jonah Parkes is unlike any man I’ve ever met.
First of all, he’s a literal giant. I’m sure he could snap me in half like a piece of dry spaghetti if he wanted to, but unlike a lot of bigger guys, he doesn’t go out of his way to make me feel weak or small. First meetings in a new placement tend to go one of two ways: either they bombard you with invasive questions, or slam you with the house rules like they know you’re going to break them.
Meeting Jonah isn’t like that at all. He’s welcoming without being pushy, polite without seeming fake. Happy to let his sister do most of the talking, speaking up only when he has something important to say—like wishing me a happy birthday.
It usually takes a few days to get a read on someone, and even then, you can never really know if they’re a creep until they show their true colors. But Jonah doesn’t seem like a creep. If anything, he’s the kind of guy creeps should be scared of. He doesn’t make me nervous, not even when I notice him watching me at the dining table. Though I kind of wish he’d turn his gaze someplace else, so he doesn’t have to witness me scarfing cake like a starving animal.