Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
I smiled to myself. Landon Honeycutt had no idea what he was up against. When I wanted something, I took it.
“So…what’s the plan when we get back to the room?” I asked innocently.
He waited so long to respond that I’d begun to think he was going to totally ignore me. Finally, seconds before my confidence wavered, he said, “As you should know, you have another workout planned. After that, a light meal and bed. You’re scheduled for your first walk twelve noon tomorrow, which means they want you there at eight o’clock in the morning. I assume you need your beauty sleep?”
Smart-assed bastard.
Instead of voicing my gripes, though, I pulled out my cell and told Samson that I wanted a pool workout tonight instead of the gym. I knew he’d have to pull a miracle out of his ass to make it happen, but if anybody could do it, Samson could. I also told him to allow a few fans in to the pool area. I rarely, if ever, allowed anyone included with workouts, but I felt like making out with a fan was exactly what Landon might need to help him realize I was a man—not boy. Just as we pulled into the hotel parking lot, Samson replied back to my text. Cuss word. Cuss word. Dirty cuss word. King of cuss words. Be at the pool in fifteen minutes.
I smiled. Landon was about to be entertained.
Putting him into work mode so it would be easier to catch him off guard, I asked, “Any more threats? Letters? Emails?”
“Nothing.” He frowned. “It bothers me. They were coming through fairly regular, but now there’s nothing—makes me think it could be an inside job and they’re aware you have hired a new team for protection.”
I snorted. “Team? You’re big, but not big enough for an entire team, Landon.” Arrogant ass.
He rolled his eyes. “There’s more than me working on this, Micah. A lot of shit is going on behind the scenes. Just know that you’re safe.”
I wasn’t the least bit worried about whether I was safe or not. Personally, I felt like the threats were some schoolgirl or boy that had an obsessive crush. My life wasn’t in danger. My virtue might be, but not my life.
The driver pulled in front of our hotel, and Landon grabbed my arm and pulled me across the seat. “Stay next to me at all times,” he growled as he flung the door open and stepped out, dragging me with him. The paparazzi were in full showing, lights from cameras flashing faster than I could blink. The full-showing of the photogs didn’t bother me since I was used to it, but Landon tensed and pulled me closer to him. He did his growl/grunt thing as we pushed through the crowd. The paps were usually much more aggressive, but even they seemed to know it wasn’t wise to push Landon too far. Before he could get close to them, they were quickly backing away.
Couldn’t help it—it turned me the fuck on.
Without much effort at all, Landon had us inside the hotel and onto the safety of the private elevator in record time. Only when the door slid closed did he relax and put some distance between us. I immediately felt cold and lonely. This was weird. I had a crush. On a man. Never in my life would I have thought this would happen, but I wasn’t ashamed of it or weirded out by it. Growing up in a world where I’d gotten pretty much whatever I’d wanted, it felt nice to want something I had to fight for.
When the elevator doors slid open, he repeated his usual routine of checking the hallways and then yanking me next to him and gliding us down the hall toward the room we shared. I grinned, wondering how he would react to my latest ploy. He opened our hotel door…I’d know soon enough, I guessed.
*****
Landon
My eyes narrowed as Micah excused himself into the bathroom to get ready for his workout. He’d dug around in one of his drawers forever and then finally went through a suitcase before he’d found whatever the hell it was he’d been looking for. He’d clutched it so tightly in his hand that I hadn’t been able to see what exactly he’d been hunting for. He was up to something. Having a son barely out of his teens meant that I could sniff out this bullshit a mile away.
Patiently, I waited until he finally emerged from the bathroom. He was wearing a robe. Nice, but not exactly workout clothes. I crossed my arms, spread my legs, and blocked his path. It seemed that my go-to dominant pose was all I ever used around Micah. He pushed every one of my buttons…all the buttons that were not proper for him to push considering that I worked for him—or at least his modeling empire. “What are you doing? You know you have a two-hour workout this evening. What’s with the robe?”