Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
But instead, Drake turned away, a mask creeping over those handsome features. Instead of unabated hunger in those blue eyes, they became shuttered and closed. His jawline tensed and the skin around his eyes looked stretched and anxious.
“Get dressed,” he growled, looking away. Even his cocks drooped a bit, losing some of their rigidity. “Don’t make me say it twice.”
Then, he turned his back on me and stalked to the entrance of the cave. I wanted to call out to him, but I knew it was useless. I’d just humiliated myself and the blow of rejection hurt. My cheeks flamed red as my knees snapped shut, and I dressed myself in a flash, pulling on my old hiking shirt and khaki shorts with trembling hands.
What were you thinking? the voice in my head screeched. You know nothing about this man! He and his friends could be a gay coven of warlocks that bang each other for fun every night! In fact, that’s probably what they were about to do when you caught them chanting in the woods.
A gay coven of warlocks? the other voice in my head asks sardonically. What the hell is that?
I shake my head while stumbling behind Drake on the forest path because instinctively, I know he’s not gay. It’s in the way he gazed at my curves with unabated lust in his eyes before they shuttered closed. The way his cocks stiffened when I threw him a saucy smile. The way his jaw tensed when I jiggled my tits in his direction, offering them for his pleasure. Gay men don’t behave like that, either consciously or unconsciously.
Yeah, but this is a different species of man, the voice in my head reasons. Maybe gay men on this island DO react that way. Maybe they’ve never even seen a woman before and have no idea how to make love to a member of the female sex.
I stop because that would actually make me feel better. Maybe Drake has no idea how to copulate with a woman, and so he was perplexed when I offered my curves to him. That would be some consolation, however little.
But somehow, I know it’s not true. Drake knows what to do with a female body, and my instinct tells me that he knows how to make a woman scream all too well. It’s in the way his nostrils flared ever-so-slightly when I wiggled my hips. It’s the way his fingers flexed, as if he was restraining himself from reaching out to caress the curve of my breast. It’s the way those two massive clubs quivered and stiffened, rising in the musky heat of the cave. In my heart of hearts, I know he’s not gay, and that in fact, Drake is very experienced when it comes to giving a woman pleasure.
But little good that does me right now. I snort while stumbling over a rock.
“You okay?” Drake asks, turning to cast a glance my way. Those deep blue eyes sweep over my raggedy hair and wrinkly clothes.
“I’m fine,” I say in a curt voice. “Not that you care,” I mutter in a low tone behind his back as we continue to walk. Of course, the alpha male hears me but chooses not to acknowledge the snarky comment, so I decide to press my luck. I can’t help it. I know I’m poking the bear but what do I have to lose at this point? I’ve already been humiliated to the ends of the earth and back.
“Are your small heads able to hear too?” I ask in a sweet tone. “Or do they only drip?”
Drake spins on his heel so fast that I literally crash into his chest. It’s like a wall of granite, and I swear, I break my nose on his breastbone.
“Ow!” I gasp, covering my nose with one hand. “Ouch ouch ouch!”
“Let me see,” he growls, pushing my hand down. “Nope, not even a little blood. You didn’t break your nose. I can safely say that your snozzer is as good as new.”
“Well, it feels like you broke it with your granite chest. Why is your chest even that hard?” I pout. “What did you do to it?”
“You mean, other than fishing for ten hours a day, hauling crates of seafood, struggling with nets, and captaining my boat to and from shore?” he asks sardonically. “That kind of exercise?”
“Oh wow. Yeah, that would be a lot of activity. You’re a fisherman?” I ask while we continue to walk along the path.
“Yeah,” Drake grunts, relaxing his stiff mien a little. “The lake is filled with all sorts of aquatic life, and it’s beautiful out there. It’s my second home.”
“It was beautiful,” I murmur in a low tone. “And I saw starfish and sea urchins clinging to the seabed while I was crossing the causeway during low tide.”