Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
“You give out free samples?” The shortest of the bunch with a brush cut and a beer gut reaches out toward my shoulder and they all laugh like he’s the headliner at the comedy stage.
I raise my hand to deflect his touch but I’m too late.
My gaze snaps left where a hand intercepts the one reaching for me and I see it’s the sheriff, only now the look in his eyes is not only unfriendly, it’s dangerous. He’s far taller than I first thought. His chest seems to have thickened as his exposed arm bulges and veins snake around the sinuous muscle underneath.
“Hey!” The too dumb for prime-time guy glares at the sheriff. “Don’t touch me.”
“You were about to touch her. And I don’t think that’s what she wanted. So technically, I could arrest you for attempted assault.”
“Bullshit,” he spits back as the sheriff blocks my view, stepping between us, the acrid scent of the other three replaced suddenly by a spicy man-scent that has that quiver between my legs on overdrive and my nipples drilling little holes through the thin fabric of my blouse.
He’s a wall of man, blocking out all three of the others, and I can’t help but drop my eyes lower. His ass fits nicely in the pressed trousers, but he’s not just beefcake. He’s thick, yes, hard but real. A little bulky…burly I guess, like he enjoys his food and doesn’t live life flexing in front of a mirror.
“Listen.” The sheriff’s voice is low as he turns to look at the two friends, his other hand on the leather snap of his holster which holds his gun. “This is a misunderstanding. This is a nice, family event. You three move on and I’ll watch you go. Or, we can do this another way…”
They all grumble and smack each other on the shoulders with a few ‘she ain’t worth it’ and ‘damn freaky medieval-fair dirty pussy, all used up anyway’ as they step away, looking at me like I suddenly turned from beauty to beast in a matter of seconds.
“Watch your mouth,” the sheriff adds as they saunter away, his jawline hard like he’s holding back.
“Thank you,” I say in my best damsel in distress voice, staying in character. “So many men just think they can take without asking.”
He snaps his tongue against his teeth, considering me for a long moment as adrenaline heats my skin. Then he crosses his arms over his wide chest. The dark brown hair covering them shifts with the muscles below and his size is mesmerizing.
He’s probably a father. He has that air about him. I wonder for a second what it would be like to have someone like him as a father.
He looks safe, like you could curl up next to him and know no matter what, he would be the best pillow and protector you could ever want.
“Many men are not as honorable as others.” Thadius’s voice interrupts us, his arm draping over my shoulder. “I hope you enjoyed the show.”
The sheriff assesses my father, then nods, one dark eyebrow moving upwards as the eye below narrows. “True and yes.”
“Your coffee did not fare so well.” Thadius nods to the ground and the sheriff turns. My eyes follow and see the large paper coffee cup he was holding laying over on the dirt, a large puddle of dark liquid surrounding. I know that Papa is playing his part now and it’s my job to pick up on his cues.
But right now, all I can do is stare at the sheriff and try to remember my own name.
“Oh well. Set it down to deal with something more important.” He sniffs, turning back to me and his eyes linger a moment on the swell of my breasts as my father’s fingers grip my shoulder.
“My name is Thadius. This is my daughter, Kezia. We are so pleased to have law enforcement here to enjoy our show.”
“That so?” The sheriff considers my father’s overly-friendly demeanor, and I can sense he’s not buying his shtick.
“Yes, of course. I thank you for intervening for Kezia. As you might imagine, she is the source of much grief for a father like me.” He chuckles but it just makes me cold because I know it’s an act. “Let me at least buy you a coffee.”
“It’s not necessary,” the sheriff answers, and part of me is disappointed. I want to keep this connection going even if it’s more acting than honesty.
“Oh, course it is. Kezia adores Starbucks and rarely has the opportunity. We are simple folks, so many things most take for granted are luxuries to us. Here…” He reaches into his back pocket and retrieves a twenty-dollar bill, handing it to me. “She deserves a break as well.” My father places his hand on his chest with a dramatic bow of his head. “I entrust you with my daughter, good sir. If you will do me the honor of taking her for a coffee, and replace yours as well. It’s her favorite guilty pleasure, one I rarely allow. A demonstration of thanks for your concern on her behalf.”