Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 33401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
I consider leaving it. She'll be back tonight after all, but the desire to see her at every available opportunity is too strong.
"Hey," I say, jogging outside, her phone in my hand. "Bailey!"
She turns around slowly, shielding her eyes from the sun. At first, I can't figure out why she's just standing there at the street corner, not moving, but then it hits me.
She's waiting on the bus. Oh, hell no.
"Porter," she says, her cheeks pink. She’s put her sweater back on, and it's baggy, the sleeves pushed up her arms.
"Here," I say, holding out her phone. “Don’t want to forget this.”
She looks embarrassed. "Thank you."
"Do you need a ride?" I ask, my mouth dry. "Let me take you home."
Bailey looks torn. "I, um, it's fine. The bus is just a few minutes late. Thank you, though."
She's still looking down the road, and I can see the stress on her face. Something's up. That protective feeling that only she can inspire in me rushes forward, and I know that I'm not going to give her a choice. I know what she needs, even if she's going to be stubborn.
"Let me rephrase that." I take her gently by the shoulder and turn her so she's looking at me and only me. Cupping her chin in my hand, I force her to focus while I say my piece. "I'm taking you home. You're not riding the damn bus when you leave here. Ever. And I'll pick you up for sessions, too. Now let's go."
Bailey opens her mouth like she's going to protest, but she sees the look on my face and stops. I lead her over to my truck, open the door, and help her up. I bought the truck, a huge black Ford, brand new a year ago. It's one of my most prized possessions.
Bailey's tiny next to me, and I find myself smiling at how small she is. It makes me feel so much bigger, and I'm not ashamed to admit that it turns me on. She’d be so easy to pick up, to move just how I want her.
Bailey is quiet, pulling her seatbelt on and looking anywhere but at me as she does so. "I, um. I don't need you to pick me up, at least. My friend Renae drops me off on her way to yoga classes."
"Fine. But I'm taking you home. Every day. After every lesson."
Bailey looks at me with her big blue eyes and bites her lip. She doesn't argue with me, but I can see the wheels turning. "But why?"
I pull out into traffic, keying in the address she gives me into the GPS. "Because you said you're being stalked. How the hell do you think I'm going to let you take public transportation when someone is out to get you? What kind of man would I be if I let you do that?"
Bailey looks down, and I see a tear run down her cheek. Fuck. She's so sensitive. My heart breaks for her.
"I'll protect you, baby," I tell her. "And I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
She takes a deep breath, and then meets my eyes, nodding. "Thank you, Porter. You've already helped me so much, and we've only had two sessions."
"I'm serious, Bailey. I'm going to take care of you." I don't tell her how or that I plan on taking care of every portion of her life, not just her self-defense training. She's not ready to hear it yet, so it might scare her off. But Bailey is never going to want for anything ever again. The more time I spend with her, the more I'm positive that she's meant to be mine. For now, though, I'll let her think I'm just her trainer, and that I'm talking about her lessons and nothing else.
I've always had a strong need to protect women, and Bailey is no exception. But there's something about her, about her sweet nature and her innocence, that calls to the very deepest part of me. I'm going to have her, sooner rather than later.
Bailey swallows and nods, wiping at her eyes. "You're a good man."
"Not just a man," I tell her, trying to make her smile. "A boxer. A fighter. You're in the hands of the best, baby."
She's blushing again, and I can't help but grin. Soon enough, she's smiling too, just like I planned.
The drive is twenty-five minutes with traffic, and I keep Bailey talking, telling me about her life and her family. Hearing that her father abandoned the family makes me so angry that I could tear the steering wheel off the dash. It makes sense that she'd be so flighty around me—first, her dad disappears, and then her ex stalks her. It's amazing that she trusts men at all anymore.
But I'm not just asking these questions to learn about her. I also need to keep myself distracted because being this close to her, smelling her sweet scent of vanilla and jasmine, is driving me wild. Her legs are bare and tan, and every time I glance over at her, she's shifting and crossing them, which sends her scent directly at me.