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)
“Priceless,” I repeat as I feel the shade of the trees arching over the path take the warmth of the sun from my skin. I want to know more about him. I want to have a real conversation that is without agenda and manipulation. “Do your parents live close then?” I ask, the feeling of wanting to know more about what lies behind those sad emerald green eyes. Everything about him makes me veer away from my usual forced conversations with marks, as my father calls the men I’m supposed to entice.
He snaps his eyes toward me and I think he’s angry, but the hard angle of his jaw softens.
“Yes. They aren’t too far from here.”
“So, they’re both still alive?” I query as we walk, my steps light, the feeling of the socks on my feet making me smile as I skip next to his heavy footfalls on the path. I look down for a moment, not at the erection pressing upward but the black leather that holds his silver pistol, and my heart speeds in my chest.
“Very much alive and well. Happily married for nearly half a century.” The reverence in his voice dispels my previous anxiety about him having nefarious intentions for traipsing me back into the woods. I’m beginning to trust this stranger and that feeling is foreign to me. It’s been longer than I recall that I trusted anyone, except maybe Genevieve.
“Wow.” My cheeks flame as his eyes trace up and down, then latch back onto mine. “A real love story.”
The way he runs his hand down his face has me confused but there’s no confusion when it comes to the way his confident gait makes my nipples pucker and it feels like feathers are tickling me between my legs.
“Yep.” He nods toward where the path branches off to the right and I see his biceps flex. The veins in his arms are pumped-up as though there’s some invisible pressure building inside him.
He doesn’t say anything else or ask me anything, so I nervously keep up my interrogation, only now it’s things I want to know. Things I don’t usually ask.
“So, is there a love story for you? Any little sheriffs running around calling you Daddy?”
He stops on the path, eyes narrow, and my stomach tumbles. There’s a change in his demeanor and I wonder if I’ve pushed too far. In the distance, I hear rushing water and along with the breeze rushing through the trees it sounds like music, but it does nothing to settle the intense stare he’s locked on me.
“No. Neither of those,” he finally answers, but the look in his eyes stays the same and the fire in my cheeks trickles down through me and I can’t get my usual handle on how to proceed. Everything feels off, different, and for the first time, I care what he thinks of me and not just for the usual reasons.
I straighten my back, keeping my head high as his hungry gaze makes me dizzy, then just as quickly, for the first time since we started walking, he looks away, like I repulse him. He walks faster, just in front of me now, and I see the tension in his back. The way he jerks his head back and forth like he’s trying to crack his neck.
“I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?”
He doesn’t stop and the sound of water is getting louder, a blast of cooler air swirls around my hot skin and I can’t seem to make sense out of the fear that somehow I’ve disappointed him. Or, were my first thoughts correct, is he going to hurt me? Do something terrible to me?
I count my breaths until he finally turns, and his eyes connect to mine, and what I see there shoots a bullseye directly to my ovaries.
“No. It’s just…” He stands perfectly still for a long moment, and I see the conflict in his eyes. “I’ve never thought of being called Daddy. Until now. Until you just said it.”
I swallow hard, his tone cuts through me and it’s like he’s revealing something to me and himself. When he speaks again, I’m holding my breath, lungs burning, pressure building in my eardrums.
“Who do you call Daddy?” he asks, more like an accusation than a question, and I stumble as the flutter in my belly lowers until it’s directly between my legs.
“No one. I’ve never used that word for anyone before.” It’s the truth and for some reason, I want to give him all my truths. I want to have someone that wants to hear it.
“Good.” He steps forward, his body only a few inches from mine as he looks down. “I like hearing you say it.”
I swallow hard as he brushes my hair from my cheek, leaving erupting nerve endings in the wake of his touch. His jaw muscles strain and I try to figure out what to say next, but he takes over.