Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“Fine.” I stand at my full height, which is only five-four, and adjust my shirt, pressing my boobs up a little higher, which makes no sense, because I’m wearing scrubs. “Can you go make sure the Thompsons have the supplies they need for Tutu?”
“Of course.” She breathes a sigh of relief, and I inhale a huge breath before stepping around the corner.
“Hi, Kayan told me you were interested in adopting?” I say, pretending like I have no idea who he is. His head turns toward me, his gaze locking with mine, and my heart stutters in my chest. Everything I remembered about him was wrong. He is way hotter than I recalled, the scruff darker, his lips fuller, and his eyes greener.
“You,” he mutters as his eyes travel over the length of my hair, the tops of my breasts, down to my waist, and then slowly slide back up, making every inch of me feel exposed. “July,” he says when his eyes meet mine again.
“How do you know my name?” I ask, feeling completely baffled.
His head dips towards my chest and I look down, seeing my nametag attached to my top. “Oh,” I say, feeling like an idiot, my hand going to my chest to cover the piece of plastic.
“Wes.” He smirks.
“Pardon?” I blink, wishing I had forced Kayan to do her damn job.
“Name’s Wes.”
“Cool name,” I mutter, and then wish I had grown up with a filter that worked properly when I see his smirk turn into a smile. “So you want to adopt?” I ask him, knowing that if he says yes, his hotness points are going to increase tenfold.
“Thinking about it.” He shrugs, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, forcing the well-worn black shirt he has on to stretch across his chest and abs. I swallow and mentally kick my ass around in my head until I pull myself together enough to speak again.
“Well…” I clear my throat, and then narrow my eyes when I see he’s smiling at how uncomfortable I am. “Follow me,” I snap, and stomp down the hall in front of him then push through the double doors at the end of the hall that leads to the kennels out back. I hear him chuckle, but I ignore him. “Those are dogs. Those are cats.” I wave my hand back and forth. “Come back up front when you’re done.” I start to storm past him, but his hand shoots out, wrapping around my bicep stopping me in my tracks and sending a zip of electricity up my arm.
“Slow down, babe,” he says, and my heart stops, and a shiver slides down my spine from the tone of his voice.
I shake off his hand and turn to face him, trying to be casual, even though my heart is beating so hard I swear it’s going to pound right out of my chest. “Did you need something else?”
“Can you tell me a little about some of the dogs you have here?”
No! I mentally scream, but my stupid head nods up and down. “What would you like to know?” I ask, and am proud my voice sounds normal and not breathy like I expected it to.
“Are any of these guys here known to be good guard dogs?”
“Yeah, Capone,” I tell him, walking toward the kennel at the end of the hall. Capone needs a home. He’s been with us for over six months, but no one wants the poor guy. He’s ugly, but very sweet. If my heart weren’t still broken from losing Beast years ago, I would have adopted Capone myself.
“This guy here is really vicious; he would kill someone if they looked at him the wrong way.” He looks at me doubtfully. “Don’t be fooled. He would rip your face off if he was given the chance,” I tell Wes, crossing my arms over my chest while stopping in front of Capone’s kennel. Capone sits up, his large bulgy dog eyes looking between Wes and me, the hair on top of his head sticking up in every direction and his long tongue hanging out the side of his mouth where a few teeth are missing.
I look from Capone to Wes and see his eyes are on me, and there is something in his eyes that causes my lungs to freeze.
“Three,” he says in a tone that is so deep that the space between my legs tingles and the breath I was holding whooshes out.
“Three what?”
“Three times you’ve fucked with me.”
“Capone is a badass,” I insist, and his hand runs over his mouth and his eyes travel leisurely over me from head to toe.
“Three times you’ve made me want to fuck you or fill that smart mouth of yours.” He steps towards me, his body pressing me into the wall behind me, and his large hand takes hold of my waist. I get lost in his eyes and words for a moment, but then I remember where we are and who he is. His head dips towards mine, and I do the only thing I can think of—I cover my mouth with my hand.