Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 36168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
I’m quiet while I cook up breakfast. I’m not sure how much more I want her to know about me anyway, so I make some toast and eggs and I even find some fancy vegan sausage to fry up with it. When I’m done, I put the plate in front of her and sit down.
“Enjoy,” I say.
She looks up, surprised. “Huh. You really can cook.”
“Thought I was a liar?”
“Maybe a little.”
“Well, then, now you know. I won’t lie to you about anything, even if you won’t like the truth.”
“Oh, yeah?” she asks. “So you’re the most honest man alive?”
“Nope,” I say, “and it sounds like you don’t know many honest men.”
I carry my plate away into the other room. She doesn’t say anything as I grab my shirt and take my food outside.
I don’t know why but I have a strange feeling in my chest, like my heart’s beating too fast. It’s the same way I feel when I want to fight or fuck something, but right now, I don’t really want to do either. Well, maybe I want to fuck her, but that’s not this.
It’s something else. Maybe it felt good to talk about myself to someone. She seemed interested, which is more than I can say about most of the pussy I’ve come across since being back home. Most people hear I’m some old, washed-up marine and their eyes glaze over real quick.
She seemed interested, though. Like she actually gave a shit about me, and that freaked me the hell out.
I’m not used to pussy giving a damn about me, or to me giving a damn about pussy.
Fucking shit. We’re leaving for tour today, so I’d better get it together. This girl’s half my age and a damn brat. All I want from her are those pretty lips wrapped around my hard cock, I don’t give a damn about anything else. Just keep it together and get through this job, and it’ll be fine.
And maybe I can get a taste of that pussy after all.
3
Katie
Just as the limo arrives to drive me to the airport later that day, I get a text from Norah. “Sorry hon, running late, meet u there xo.”
“Shit,” I say to myself. That means I’m stuck alone in the limo with Graham, my sexy, former marine bodyguard with a penchant for taking his shirt off and staring at me broodingly.
Oh, yeah, and telling me that I need a new Daddy.
I mean, how rude is that? He doesn’t know me at all and that’s way out of bounds for a bodyguard. And yet for some reason, I let him get away with it. If I told Norah what he said, she’d fire him in a heartbeat.
But then we’d have to find someone new to take care of me, and he could be worse and who knows what’ll happen and…
No, Graham is fine. He’s cocky and an asshole and sexy and he cooks breakfast for me and…
He’s fine. He’ll do.
I head downstairs, lugging a bag along behind me. I spot Graham leaning up against the doorframe, looking out at the driveway.
“Uh, little help?”
He looks back at me lazily and doesn’t move. “We’re taking a limo?”
“Yeah.” I stop on the steps, huge bag threatening to crush me under its weight. “Can you help me, please?”
He nods and walk over, easily lifting the bag up and carrying it downstairs. I sigh a little and rub my wrist as I follow him down. He carries the bag outside and manages to stow it away in the trunk.
“Where’s your luggage?” I ask him.
“Already in there.”
I look in the trunk, and there’s only the single duffel he came with. “That’s it? For the whole tour?”
“I travel light.”
I sigh. “You can’t smell bad. Okay?”
“I never smell bad.” He grins at me and I doubt that’s the case.
I climb into the limo and he follows me. I know a limo is a little over the top but the label insisted on sending it. I mean, I’m perfectly capable of getting myself to the airport, but whatever.
At least they decided to spring for the private jet, too.
“Where’s the first stop?” Graham grunts at me as we pull out into traffic. He’s sitting on the other side of the limo, practically at the other end, and I have to learn forward to hear him.
“You don’t know?”
“I don’t know,” he confirms. “Didn’t care enough to ask.”
I groan. “East Coast. New York is first.”
“Ah. Nice city.”
“You been before?”
“Born and raised.”
I bite my lip. “Really?”
“Really. Lived on Long Island for a while, until I enlisted.”
I let out a breath. “Damn,” I whisper.
“What?”
“Me too.”
He barks a laugh. “Really?”
“Really.”
“I knew I saw a little Long Island princess in you.”
I roll my eyes. “Cut it out. Just because we’re from the same place—”
“We’re basically the same.”
“No, we are not.”
“Sure, we are. You’re just running from what you are.”