Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 53361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
“You came back,” he said, the words hanging in the quiet kitchen. He always made the same simple statement. I thought maybe he felt as unsure of himself as I did. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who thought whatever we had between us was different.
I smiled, unable to help myself. “Third week running.”
He moved into the room with slow, deliberate steps. “Finished for the day?” he asked, stopping closer than strictly necessary but not close enough to touch. I found myself wanting to lean into him to close the gap between us.
“Yeah.” I shifted my weight, suddenly very aware of my body and how my pussy clenched at the thought of reaching out to touch him. “Saved you guys for last.”
His gaze remained steady on mine. “I’ll walk you out.”
Not a question. Not quite an order either but pretty close. I had to smile at his gruff exterior. As with a lot of these guys, I suspected Rancor was a marshmallow on the inside.
“Thanks,” I said, gathering my keys from the counter. We moved through the kitchen and out the door into the late afternoon light. The compound hummed with distant activity off in the distance.
Rancor walked beside me, close enough that occasionally our arms brushed. Each touch sent electricity skittering across my skin. He didn’t speak, and surprisingly, I found the silence comfortable. When we reached my car, I turned to face him, leaning back against the driver’s door.
“Why do you keep coming back?” His voice was low, rough at the edges. The question came without preamble, direct in a way that startled me.
I blinked up at him. “To deliver your groceries?”
“Here.” He gestured vaguely at the compound around us. “Other drivers won’t.”
I considered lying, giving some bland answer about customer service or professionalism. But standing there, with his dark eyes studying me so intently, I couldn’t bring myself to be anything but honest. “The money,” I admitted. “The tips are good. Really good.” I paused, heart hammering against my ribs as I added, “And… I might like seeing you, too.”
The words hung between us, more revealing than I’d intended. My cheeks heated, but I didn’t look away. Something shifted in his expression, a subtle softening around his eyes and a slight parting of his lips as he processed what I’d said.
“Yeah?” The single word held a vulnerability I hadn’t expected from him. Somehow, that made me feel a little better about my admission.
“Yeah,” I confirmed, surprising myself with how steady my voice sounded.
Rancor took a slow, careful step closer to me. My breath caught as he moved deliberately into my space, giving me time to retreat if I wanted. I didn’t move. Couldn’t move. Didn’t want to. He leaned in slowly, his face coming toward mine. But instead of the kiss I expected, he dipped his head to the curve where my neck met my shoulder. I felt his breath first, warm against my skin, then the unmistakable sensation of him inhaling deeply, taking in my scent.
The intimacy of the gesture froze me in place. No one had ever done that before. Smelled me with such deliberate intent. It should have been strange. Should have made me uncomfortable. Instead, heat bloomed low in my belly, spreading outward until my fingertips tingled with it.
His beard brushed against the sensitive skin of my neck, the unexpected tickle making me giggle. The sound surprised both of us. His lips curved against my skin in what felt like a smile, and he drew back enough for me to see his face. Sure enough, a small smile played at the corners of his mouth, transforming his features. Making him look younger, somehow. Less burdened. My heart stuttered at the sight.
I didn’t think about what I did next. Didn’t plan it or weigh the consequences. I simply acted on the pull I’d felt since the first moment I saw him. My arms moved up around his neck, fingers finding the warm skin above the collar of his T-shirt. I pressed myself against the solid wall of his chest and rose up on my toes.
His hands settled just above my waist, large and warm through my shirt. He held me like I was something precious, something that might break under too much pressure. I pulled him down toward me, our faces inches apart, giving him time to pull away.
He didn’t.
Our lips met in a kiss that started gentle and tentative. His lips were warmer than I expected, softer. He tasted faintly of coffee and something distinctly his own. My fingers curled against the nape of his neck, into the short bristle of hair there, and I felt rather than heard the low, contented groan rumbling through his chest.
The kiss deepened, his grip tightened at my waist, drawing me closer, while I explored the contours of his shoulders, the strong column of his neck. When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Rancor pressed his forehead against mine. Our breaths mingled in the small space between us. His eyes, so dark and unreadable from a distance, revealed flecks of amber among the brown, and a warmth I hadn’t expected.