Total pages in book: 184
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
It makes me picture a rose set on fire.
The petals of which I want to lick and eat.
And swallow and burn with.
“Dora.”
My eyes snap up at his voice. “No one calls me Dora.”
His jaw clenches. “Let go of me.”
“I like it.”
“Let me go.”
“You’re very handsome.”
“Let. Me,” he growls. “Go.”
“Kiss me.”
He stiffens. “What?”
I glance down at his lips. “That’s my condition. For you to kiss me.” Looking up, I add, “You do that and I’ll let you go. I’ll leave.”
The frown in his brows thickens. “Do you always throw yourself at men like this?”
I fist the collar of his jacket. “I do throw myself at men but not like this.”
His eyes—that I’m very pleased to announce are dark—flare. “You—”
“Usually, I throw myself at them when I want something. I tempt them. I make them false promises. I dangle myself as a prize.” I fist his collar tighter. “But that’s not what I’m doing here.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m seizing my destiny.”
“What?” he snaps.
“Yeah.” I nod, looking into his eyes, thrilled beyond belief. “I wasn’t going to do it, the audition. I didn’t want to make my parents mad. But then my biji convinced me. She told me to seize my destiny and so that’s what I was doing tonight, on my eighteenth birthday. But then I run into you.”
His body’s still and rigid, his eyes narrowed.
I don’t think he’s liking my explanation all that much.
But it’s okay.
I’ll still keep going, despite my fear.
Despite all obstacles.
“And you’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met,” I continue. “Someone else, a different man, would’ve tried something with me by now. There’s a man waiting for me, two blocks away. He’s here to take me to Bardstown for my audition and I bet he’s thinking what he can get in return. I bet he has all kinds of bad intentions toward me. Because men always do. Sometimes I encourage it, sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I use it to get myself something, like a ride to a different town. But they always, always want to try something with me in return. Not you, though. You haven’t tried one thing. You’ve tried to give me advice and protect me. So—”
“First,” he growls, his body so tight that it’s like I’m plastered against a rock, “you’re not getting into a car with a strange man.”
“I won’t,” I agree readily.
“You—”
“If you kiss me.”
His jaw clenches. “This is not a fucking game, do you understand? You could seriously get hurt. You could—”
“Kissing you is not a game for me.”
His chest expands on a breath. His nostrils flare.
Then, with his arms that are still keeping me safe, flexing around my waist, he growls, “I’m not fucking kissing you.”
“Why not?” I ask, exasperated.
“Just let go of me.”
“I’ve never been kissed before. You could be my first kiss.”
“Fuck no.”
He looks so horrified that I’m compelled to add, “How about I sweeten the pot?”
“No.”
“How about I let you go further?”
“What?”
My arms are still hooked around his neck and so I almost dangle against him now, my feet leaving the ground, my back arching, my neck craning up. And yet again, he saves me. His arms around my waist tighten to the point where I feel the shift of his muscles through layers and layers of our clothes.
And an involuntary shiver runs down my spine at his strength.
Making me even bolder and shameless and determined.
Looking into his dark eyes, I ask, “How about I let you touch my tits?”
“What?”
“Yes, no one has ever touched them before. I’m a total virgin. I promise.”
“That’s—”
“Plus I have nice tits.” I rub myself against him. “See? They’re all soft and perky.”
He moves his arms and grips my hips, stopping me.
But other than that, he doesn’t say anything else.
“I also have cherry-colored nipples.”
His jaw clenches in response.
“You could suck on them.”
His jaw clenches harder.
“You could even bite me, leave your mark on me.”
His jaw clenches even harder than before.
As if he’s testing the sharpness, the strength of his teeth.
“Men like that, don’t they? They like to leave their marks on girls. You could leave yours,” I offer, “on me.”
He mashes his teeth.
“And I also know men like to be all dominating and rough. Like a daddy. You could be that. You could be my daddy tonight and I won’t tell anyone. Ever. Not my dad or my mom. Or anyone, really. I—”
“No.” His fingers dig into my flesh harshly, painfully before pushing me away from his body.
Forcefully thrust away from him, winter attacks me.
Sharp claws of chill dig into my skin.
And rubbing my hands over my bare arms, I say as a last-ditch effort, “If I figure out who you are, will you kiss me then?”
He watches me rub warmth back into my arms and his chest moves again. “You should go back. Get inside. Get away from the cold. Get away from that fucking man.”