Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“Big Chief!” I holler for him to get his ass out of the bathroom because I’m freaking out. I’m not used to storms like this.
The bathroom door opens and he walks out with a white towel wrapped around his hips, his hair pulled up out of his face. His skin is dewy and holds a warm glow to it from the hot water of the shower. He casually glances at the TV, listening to the weatherman as he comes farther into the room.
My lips part, my eyes taking in every inch of his biceps and hard chest. Holy shit, he is… Thunder pounds from above and I jump looking at the window.
“Calm down,” he grumbles under his breath. Walking to the end table, he picks up his phone, looking at the warning and specifics on his notification. “We’re under a tornado warning for the rest of the night.”
“That can’t be good. What do we do?”
Sirens slowly start to ring from outside and my eyes widen with freight. If it weren’t for that damn guy on the TV demanding us to find shelter right now, I wouldn’t be so scared. I’ve seen news channels display towns completely wiped out by tornados and asking for help to pull survivors from rubble.
“Cowgirl up, princess.” He winks at me and walks back into the bathroom like it’s no big deal. Cowgirl up? Is he serious? What the fuck does that even mean?
Crawling out of the bed, I scurry over to the bathroom as quickly as my sore body will allow and open the door. He’s leaning over the counter looking at himself in the mirror until he sees me and his attention shifts from his reflection to me.
“Shouldn’t we go to lower ground or something, that’s what it’s saying on the TV?”
“It’s not going to hit us, relax.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’ve lived in the south enough to know.” He grabs his sweats that are folded neatly on the counter and pulls them up his legs and under the towel until they’re fully on and he lets the towel drop to his feet. My eyes fall to the bulge in the front of his pants. It’s big and my cheeks warm.
“See something you like, D?”
My eyes slowly slip up his body and to his face, a cocky grin on full display. The asshole is playing games. Rolling my eyes, I turn to leave the bathroom and a knock on our door has me stop. Tensing, I glance at Big Chief. Shit! What if it’s The Fallen Gods!
He grabs his gun from the bathroom counter and with one hand, pushes me behind him, his body wide and shielding me from whatever is on the other side.
A knock sounds again.
“Who is it?” Big Chief demands in a hard voice. The lights cut, planting us in darkness and panic swims through my veins. Holy fuck, it’s just like when I was in Georgia. The lights went out and I was attacked.
“It’s the front desk, we’re asking all guests to go to the first-floor hallway,” a gentle male voice muffles from the other side of the door. I sigh with relief, I hate how jumpy I am.
“We’re fine, thanks,” Big Chief tells him and gets closer to the door, standing flush with the wall. He reminds me of James Bond, but way sexier.
“Sir, I insist—”
“I said we’re fine. Now leave.” His tone leaving little room for argument, and the man leaves our door. Seconds later, knocking on someone else’s door down the hall can be heard as he asks the guests to please go down to the first floor.
I can barely see a thing it’s so dark but I notice Big Chief lower his gun and look toward me.
“Why aren’t we going downstairs?” I feel like we should be following the safety guidelines if we don’t want to be crushed to death when the hotel collapses from the relentless wind.
“If a tornado hits this place it’s going down regardless of what floor we’re on,” he simply replies, and the fear in my body goes up ten notches.
Are all men this stupid when it comes to storms, or just him? He sits on the bed fucking with his gun and I know I have no choice but to join him. I can’t go downstairs alone. Hurrying across the room, I crawl under the blankets and shift my body close enough to him my knees touch his hard arms. He stops what he’s doing, and I take the opportunity to get even closer. God, I don’t want to die.
“Delilah...” He nudges my legs away from his arms, a warning in his tone of voice.
“Fuck you. I’m scared to death I’m going to be blown to Kansas, so if we’re staying up here, I’m sitting right here! Get over it!”
He laughs and anger bubbles in my chest he thinks this is funny.