Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
I gasp, shoving at his strapping shoulder with the heel of my hand. “What has gotten into you?”
“A broken heart,” he rasps.
“Dusty.” Hot, gloppy tears spring to my eyes. “Please try and understand. I live here. I don’t want to leave.”
Do I?
That clean country air tasted so sweet…
“The lady in the flower shop says women don’t know what the hell they want.” Before I can track his movements, I’m being picked up and thrown over Dusty’s shoulder. His big palm cracks down on my backside, then again, giving me two rough spanks. “Well, listen to me good, darlin’. Daddy will keep chasing you and bringing you home until you figure it out.”
For several blocks, I’m too stunned to speak.
Toxic masculinity is not supposed to turn me on.
I liked Dusty because he was sweet and humble.
But this Dusty? This side of him? I can’t pretend he isn’t putting my hormones in overdrive. I’m being kidnapped against my will and I can barely focus on anything but the way his ass flexes in those tight suit pants. I can only marvel over the loose-hipped country confidence he embodies as he carries me in a fireman hold down the avenue, stopping pedestrians in their tracks. Not one man tries to intervene or help me, which is a perfect indication of what I’m working with in the city, dating pool wise.
There is no one like Dusty here.
He’s like Bigfoot showing up at a company picnic full of dudes in polo shirts and light beer, simply putting them all to shame. This is a man. And this man has decided to keep me.
Despite what I’m telling him I want.
I should want to kick him in the balls, but instead I’m just…relieved?
Oh no. Maybe women don’t know what they want?
No. Screw that. I’m not going anywhere docile as a lamb. I’m not going down without a fight. This is my home. He can’t just come here and abduct me back to his magical farm that somehow felt more like home than my own apartment.
I sniff indignantly and punch him in the butt. “Put me down, Dusty.”
“As soon as we’re in your apartment,” he drawls calmly. “I’m happy to walk in circles until you give me the address.”
“I’m not telling you!”
“I’m going to rip that little bandana off your tits as soon as we’re in the door and suck them until you scream.”
“Seventy East Nineteenth Street. Apartment 3A.”
His dark chuckle makes me frown. I punch him again in his firm, perfect butt.
I’m shaking with the erotic imagery he has put in my head. I know I should fight with him and demand he leave me alone. I know I should probably call the police or something, but as soon as we’re in my building, climbing the stairs, Dusty’s hand smooths over the curve of my bottom and squeezes, a growl emanating from his chest.
And I know I’m useless to battle this attraction.
He sets me down in front of the entrance to my apartment, flattening me against the door while he fishes my key out of my pocket, ignoring my struggles, which are half-hearted at best. I slap at his shoulders and “try” to wiggle free, but I’m also tilting my face up, hoping he kisses me—and when he does finally get the door open and plants one on me, I scale my giant like a tree, moaning into the explosive kiss, the touch of him like a breath of air after a day of inhaling soot, my heart pounding a hundred miles an hour.
Oh yeah. I’d say I’m in pretty big trouble.
8
Dusty
I don’t know what has come over me.
My plan was to arrive at the boutique, profess my love, hand her the flowers and woo her into coming home, no matter how long it took. But when I walked into the shop and saw Bianca standing there, blonde hair in waves around her tan shoulders, nothing but a scarf holding up her titties, I was inundated by a storm of possessiveness so thick, I couldn’t see clear of it. This girl is mine and that’s the end of it.
She gave me her virginity for a reason.
I took it for a reason.
Now I’m going to love her until the end of time, whether she likes it or not.
One thing, at least, is giving me hope—and that’s the fact that she’s kissing me. This attraction between us isn’t a figment of my imagination. It’s raw, piping hot and real. First on my agenda is letting the girl know—again—that I keep my word. So as soon as the apartment door clicks shut behind us, I rip that bandana away from her supple tits and lift her clean off the floor so I can suckle her juicy little nipples.
It's not long until she’s tearing at my hair and screaming, trying her damnedest to get her legs wrapped around my hips. But she can’t. The pink skirt she’s wearing is tight as second skin and the hem goes all the way to her knees.