Total pages in book: 14
Estimated words: 12872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 64(@200wpm)___ 51(@250wpm)___ 43(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 12872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 64(@200wpm)___ 51(@250wpm)___ 43(@300wpm)
“No, thank you. I have my own.” I wave my glass toward him and then bring it to my lips, taking another long drink from the straw. I want to be shitfaced because the man who drives me nuts belongs to someone else, attempting to dull the ache in my chest.
“So no drink then. Would you like to dance?” My mind goes to that asshole who’s watching me and I think, I shouldn’t, but fuck it. If he’s going to be annoying and barge in on my holiday acting like I’m the president’s daughter or something needing serious protection detail, I might as well have a little fun. Besides, this guy in front of me is a hot young guy about my age. Maybe loosening up will let my heart forget Cameron King. Doubt it.
“Sure.” I’m about to lead the way out onto the small dance floor next to the beach when I run into a formidable, delicious-smelling wall. A scent I love and could never forget that lives in my dreams. My head slowly tilts upward to find Cameron looking down at me before he glares at the guy and says, “She’s taken, buddy. Get the fuck lost.”
I raise my chin up and glare at him, letting him know what it is that I’m going to do, and that he isn’t in charge of me. With an arched brow, I state clearly, “We were about to dance, Mr. King.”
“No, the fuck you weren’t,” he remarks, looking down at me with a stern warning before returning his attention to my new friend. Why must he look so good?
“You heard her. She wants to dance with me, buddy, so get lost,” the blond guy insists, and I know this won’t end well. Cameron’s twice this guy’s size, and although he doesn’t do any guarding in particular, he trains his guys. I could stop him, but I can read the tick in his jaw. It’s the same one from when I woke up that morning. He’s pissed.
“You won’t be able to dance if I break your fucking legs.” His warning isn’t given with a raised voice, and somehow that makes it more terrifying.
“Fine. There are other hot chicks here.” He storms away, and I turn my gaze back to the rude vacation killjoy.
Jabbing him in his muscular chest and ignoring the zing of pleasure, I hiss, “Are you fucking serious right now? Did you come all the way down here to ruin my fun? I can’t believe this bullshit. Elias sent you, didn’t he?”
“He asked.” The non-emotional response ticks me off even more because he doesn’t give a shit that he’s invading my vacation.
“So, like the little lap dog you are, you came to do his dirty work. Well, I don’t need you to scare away every man who comes near me. I’m an adult and can dance with and fuck anyone I want,” I remind him.
“Watch your words, Elena,” he warns me with a deep growl that sends a delightful shiver up my spine, and I want to provoke him even more.
“I’m not a child, Mr. King.” His eyes darken and nostrils flare.
He skims his thick, long finger under the edge of my bikini strap and pops it. “No, you’re not, and every man in here knows it.” Does that include him? Probably not. My panties are drenched from the need burning seeping from me at the idea that he could ever see me as a woman.
“Good. That’s the point.” A low growl rips through his chest and I could swear he was actually jealous, but I know this man. I’ve been legal for over three years and he’s never made a move on me—even when I was wearing his clothes in his bed. Besides, he has a woman, and I’m nothing more than his friend’s bratty kid sister who is making his life harder right at the moment. “Excuse me, Mr. King.”
“It’s Cameron, and you know it.” Yes. I know it well. It’s the name in my head over and over as I try to wring out orgasms from my body.
“Whatever. Get out of my way. I want to have a good time and dance.” I move to push out of his way, but his hands wrap around my waist like a steel band, my back slamming against his chest. I try to fight the shiver that runs through me, but there’s no use. It could be blamed on the cool breeze that the quick movement brought.
“You want to dance?” he grunts along my ear, hand flexing against my stomach.
“Yes.” I try to sound tough, but my voice comes out weak and quivers.
He loosens his hold and spins me around. “Fine. We’ll dance. One song, as soon as you put that fucking robe thing back on.”
“You’re a piece of work. Just because your last name is King doesn’t make you my ruler,” I tell him, giving him the best glare I can with my hands on my waist, intentionally jutting my chest out because I know he’s pissed that I’m half naked out here—and my brother would lose his mind.