Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Gah, really? He’s got good lines, I’ll give him that.
“I should go.” I turn around, trying to avoid eye contact. “They’re going to figure out I’m here. I’ll go out the back and walk around with the dogs. Even if they see me, they will just think I was out feeding them.”
He grabs my arm, crushing his lips to mine, and I taste the heady scent of my pleasure on his mouth and beard, my knees almost buckling.
Goddammit. I am powerless when it comes to his mouth.
He finishes our kiss and I can’t help taking one long last look at his painfully-swollen cock.
“You’re gonna need to do something about that,” I smirk.
“You’re going to do something about that.” He takes my hand and rubs it over the slick tip. “We’re going to finish this. I’m taking what’s mine, my sweet little doll. Midnight. I’ll be waiting.”
CHAPTER 4
Dutch
She’s changing me.
No, that’s wrong.
She’s already changed me. She did that from the very first letter.
Because of her, I’m turning into someone that thinks about the future. Our future.
Someone that wants to know everything about her. Her hopes, her dreams, her desires. Make sure she gets enough sleep. Make sure she takes her vitamins and doesn’t forget to eat.
I want to know when she gets her period. I want to count the days every fucking month and hope like fuck she’s late.
This pulsing desire inside my soul to breed her has taken on a life of its own.
Still, this whole new world is a mindfuck. The family, the legit business, the way they all care for each other and have a common goal. As simple as it is, that’s uncharted territory for me. I know that if I fuck up, I’ll lose her. Or worse, I’ll be the man she doesn’t need. And if that’s the case, I’d rather not be here at all.
I’ve never wanted anything the way I want her. Before this, romance was a fucking shelf in the library. It seemed so goddamned unnecessary to put someone before myself.
But, with Daphne? Fuck, I want to give her everything she wants. Keep her safe. Be her port in the storm. Be here for whatever will inevitably come. Anticipate her every need from the moment I wake until I put her to sleep, my dick nestled inside her through the night.
My chest has been tight since I saw her earlier today, and it’s not just that I want to fuck her so bad my johnson feels like it’s tied in a square knot.
It’s bigger than that. Because the truth is simple: I don’t want to disappoint her.
What the hell can I offer to a girl like her? I’m not even a day out, with a record that will keep almost anyone from trusting me, including her if she has any sense. She should run a mile. Fast. And now.
But, God, I want her to trust me. I need her trust so I can be the man she deserves.
* * *
Now, I’m in Walter’s office at the garage. They’re going back and forth about upgrading their security system. More missing parts from their storage behind the shop. That’s what the call was about back at the house. Serious shit but I’m barely listening. Because I can still smell her on me. Honey-sweet. Lusty and all mine.
Walter’s desk is covered in neat piles of receipts and files. On the back wall, keychains hang on numbered hooks. The rest of the garage is par for the course: the wall above covered in old calendars with bikini-clad women sitting on the hoods of hot rods and classic roadsters holding up cans of Mobil oil. Curves in all the right places. But not even close to Daphne. Not even fucking close.
I force myself to focus on what’s going on around me. On the smell of motor oil and the clank of carburetors. I know my way around engines. My dad and I bonded over fixing them. I took on other jobs at garages and some chop shops through the years.
Walter grilled me hard about my skills, telling me I’d be doing oil changes and brake jobs until he could trust me to do otherwise. I proved my worth. But still I can see he’s fucking wary.
James shoves back his chair, saying he’s going to go tweak the cameras again.
Which leaves me alone with Walter.
He stays quiet, tapping on his keyboard, then settles back in his chair, hands clasping over his gut, eyes on me. For a second, I can see him on the wrong side of an interrogation desk. There’s judgment in his eyes and who can blame him?
“Just so you know, I asked James a lot of questions before I agreed to this. He’s vouched for you and I trust my son, but…”
I swallow hard. I’ve never given two shits about what anybody else thinks of me. Until now.