Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
The angel and the warrior standing guard beside her. The image does something funny in the pit of my stomach. It makes me long for a future together. The opportunity to journey through all the seasons of life side by side. It’d be the adventure of a lifetime, and I’d cherish every moment.
Since I can’t tell him all of that, I swallow down the words I want to say. Instead, I whisper the one truth I can tell him, “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
His thumb strokes my cheek, and his touch grounds me. The soft caress is the only thing that’s keeping me from thinking this is all a wonderful dream. “Nothing will happen to me. I have a guardian angel.”
I know that’s not necessarily a promise he can keep. I’ve watched even the strongest, smartest men fall into my father’s traps. But I want to believe that we can make it out together. Even if we don’t, we have tonight. “Then kiss me.”
Ryker drops his head. His lips are so close that I can smell the toffee candy he had after lunch. “If I do that, I’ll keep kissing you. I’ll go lower and lower and won’t stop until my head is between your thighs and you’re screaming my name.”
My knees go weak at his words. This is exactly what I want. I want to be consumed by Ryker, taken by this big, burly man in front of me. I manage a quick, jerky nod.
That’s all Ryker needs to take control of the situation. With one smooth motion, he has me backed up against the house and my wrists pinned above my head. His kiss is harsh and demanding, his lips seeking mine in a desperate frenzy.
I try to pull my hands free to touch him. I want to run my fingertips across those broad shoulders. I want to touch his short hair. I want to caress his face as I press kisses to his jaw. But I can’t.
With just one hand, he’s bound my wrists above my head. Realizing that I’m helpless against his brute strength has my panties soaked. It’s not that he’d ever force himself. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it’d only take a word and he’d let me go. It’s the idea that I’m his to play with. That Ryker can do whatever he wants to my body in this position, and I can’t stop him. He’s in charge.
He pulls away long enough to smirk at me. “Last chance to back out, angel or this dirty old bastard is going to put his filthy hands all over you.”
“Do it. Make me dirty. Make me yours.” The words are a whimper, a final declaration of surrender as he drops his head to press kisses to the side of my neck. He nibbles on the sensitive flesh, sending a shiver down my spine.
He continues until he kisses my collarbone. Everywhere he touches sends a mini lightning bolt to that sensitive place between my thighs. If he doesn’t make it down there soon, I might just combust right here.
“Time to lose the shirt, tigress.”
Before he can reach for it, I tell him to wait.
He instantly stills. That’s part of what makes this game so hot. He’s acting like he’s in charge but we both know I’m the one with the power here. A word from my lips is all it would take for this wild, strong warrior to drop to his knees. The realization gives me a rush of feminine energy.
“I’m scarred,” I warn him again. My father believed that lessons were best reinforced with physical punishment. It’s not that I’m ashamed. I just want Ryker to think I’m beautiful and the scars definitely aren’t pretty.
“Keep your hands up,” he says as he releases his hold.
For a moment, I’m afraid that he’s going to say it’s over but then he pulls up the hem of his own shirt. He drops it onto the porch, letting me see his body. Like me, he’s covered in scars.
Long, raised lines in various shades of pink and purple cover his broad chest. His thick chest hair covers some of them, but it can’t hide them all. This is what a protector’s body looks like, marred for those he chose to defend. Sacrificed for those who will never say thank you and never know his name.
“You’re scarred like me,” I whisper and despite his instructions, I drop my hand to trace one of them. Wonder fills me as I realize he went first. I was scared to be vulnerable, so he was brave.
His gaze softens as he watches me. He’s strong and unyielding and masculine yet he’s looking at me like I’m precious. Like I’m someone he worships. “We’re all scarred. You and I just happen to carry them on the outside.”