Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 38973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
“You clearly need a Daddy, sweet boy. Eat your food.”
He looked up at me, his pretty blue eyes a little wide, his lips just slightly parted. But I didn’t miss the flush on his cheeks.
Yeah, he wanted a Daddy as much as he needed one. And I was the man for the job.
I didn’t give a fuck what society deemed normal or okay. I’d stopped giving a fuck a long time ago. This boy was mine. And I wasn’t letting him go.
CHAPTER THREE
Ace
Ijerked awake, my muscles locking up at the feel of Stan’s hand wrapped around the back of my neck, pinning me to the mattress. I tried pushing up, but he was four times my size and much stronger than me.
“Get off of me!” I barked, not giving a fuck if I woke everyone up in this house. But unlike me, I knew even if someone did wake up, they wouldn’t come help me. They wanted to fly under the radar. Remain unnoticed. I got it. I did. But fuck, some help would be nice. Especially since I knew I’d risk my own life and safety to help them if they were in this predicament.
“You livin’ under my roof,” he panted against my ear as he ripped my blanket off of me, “you givin’ me what I fuckin’ want.”
“You’re not getting shit from me,” I growled, willing myself to not fall prey to the panic surging through my veins. I knew what was about to happen. It’d happened twice already. But I wouldn’t go down without a fight. I never gave in. Never would accept defeat.
He smashed my face into the pillow, and I fought back harder, unable to breathe. Was he trying to fucking kill me?
“Stop fightin’ me, you fuckin’ prick,” he snarled, shoving my face harder into the pillow as he worked my sweats down over my ass. Tears burned in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. My lungs were screaming for oxygen. I couldn’t fucking breathe—
I jerked awake, sweat making the clothes I was wearing stick uncomfortably to my skin. I was breathing too hard, and my heart was racing too fast. I flung the blankets off of me and stumbled out of bed, heading to the attached bath I’d discovered after I ate earlier.
I was splashing cold water on my face when Gunner appeared in the doorway. He didn’t look like he’d been asleep yet, but looking out the window revealed it was definitely dark outside. Didn’t mean it was late though. With it being winter, it could still be six in the evening.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice low and soft. And fuck, it did something to my insides. Butterflies erupted in my belly, but at the same time, my anxiety settled. Like just his mere presence brought me safety. Made me feel like nothing could touch me.
Gunner was a massive, tall man. Thick muscles bulged from his inked arms, and his barrel chest stretched his long-sleeve shirt tight across his chest. Despite him being a backwoods mountain man, his blonde beard was neatly trimmed and groomed, and his blonde hair was clean, well-kept, and fit his face perfectly.
“I’m fine,” I managed.
He leaned a shoulder against the doorframe and crossed those big arms over his chest. Normally, that kind of stance and blocking my exit would make me freak out and lash out, but I just… I felt safe. How did he do that? Why was he so fucking different? He could even touch me unexpectedly, and I didn’t freak out. I didn’t panic. I didn’t want to scrub my skin raw to remove the feeling of him touching me. Instead, I just wanted more. Like I needed to touch him to breathe. How was that possible when I was so… touch-phobic?
“You don’t look fine, Ace baby,” he said, that stern Daddy note leaking into his voice again. I prayed he didn’t notice my dick reacting. He was a beautiful man, and he had everything I wanted wrapped up in a big, tattooed package. I never thought a relationship would ever be in the cards for me due to my fear of being touched, but maybe I was wrong.
Maybe there was hope for me.
Especially if he kept calling me Ace baby and sweet boy. I was such a sucker for both names, especially in that deep, almost growly voice of his.
“I’m fine,” I said again, not wanting to talk about any of it.
Gunner hummed. I knew he didn’t believe me. But he pushed off the door frame anyway and turned, leaving me behind. Something tightened in my chest, and I felt untethered. Was he walking away? Why was I so upset about it?
“Come downstairs,” Gunner commanded. “I’ll put on a movie and you can eat some more soup. Some color is returning to your face.”