Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 76953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
So, while I knew the guy well enough to know his fixation with the lawn, feeding squirrels and birds, and the candy he liked, that was the extent of it.
It was never deeper than that.
And because of the way we girls were raised, we knew that prospects were simply not relationship material.
Did that rule sometimes make the girls, especially Layna and Billie, somehow want them even more? Sure.
For me, though, there was a mental block up about the club guys. While I had eyes and could plainly see that they were all objectively good-looking, I didn’t actually feel any attraction to them.
Until Perish’s body was pressed to mine.
Until my breasts were crushed to his chest, making them suddenly feel hyper-sensitive and heavy. Until his pelvis was against mine, making me have to actively fight not to let my legs butterfly open so he could slip between. Until his spicy scent was overwhelming me. Until he was pulling back and his hands were roaming all over me, making me momentarily incapable of doing anything but feel those giant palms sliding over my neck, chest, hips, legs, even grazing beneath my breasts.
Desire hadn’t just stirred.
It had pooled.
My blood hummed.
Need fluttered.
Every nerve ending felt like it was sparking, each cell aching.
Had it been a while for me?
Fine, yes.
But still.
An insane reaction.
To a club member, no less.
All because he’d saved my life.
My mind whipped from desire to the panic of seeing that muzzle tip, to imagining a dozen bullets lodged in my body, to bleeding out in agony, to slowly drifting out of consciousness, never to awaken again.
A strange little whimpering sound escaped me as I realized just how close I’d come to dying, to leaving my parents to grieve me.
“Gracie,” Perish’s voice called, softer than I’d ever heard it. A man his size shouldn’t be capable of softness like that. Or the gentle way his hand reached out to settle on my shoulder, fingers curling in, offering comfort.
I didn’t fight the urge to turn, to lean into him. There was no one else around to seek comfort from. And everything in me was crying out for a hug.
For a long moment, even as my arms wound around him, that Perish stood there with both arms held outward from his body. Like I was a bomb. Like I was too delicate to touch.
But slowly but surely, I felt the tension sliding out of his body. Then one hand slipped around my hips, holding me to him. The other followed, moving across my back, his warm skin teasing the bare skin of my back through the tiny straps.
“You’re alright,” he said in that deep, rough voice of his. “Wasn’t gonna let anything happen to you.”
“What if you weren’t so close?”
“I was.”
“What if you went home earlier?”
“I didn’t.”
“What if I was—”
“You weren’t. Stop this,” he demanded, but his voice was gentle enough that the words lost their sting. “What-ifs ain’t gonna help anything. You’re okay. Everyone’s okay.”
Logically, I knew he was right.
But sometimes my mind liked to kick up worst-case scenarios until they became a tornado that swept me up with it. And there was nothing I could do but try to hold on until the winds lost their strength and dropped me down, dizzy and exhausted.
Surprisingly, tears didn’t come.
And, well, I was a cryer.
Old people eating alone at restaurants? Tears. Videos of kids getting the puppy they always wanted? Tears. Anger? Tears. Frustration? Tears. Joy? Tears. I was a tear-producing machine. I never ran dry. Until right then when I had a real, legitimate reason to be blubbering.
I sucked in a deep breath, breathing in Perish’s cologne, feeling almost dizzy with it as that thrumming sensation moved through me again.
I needed to step away.
To put that shield up between us that had always been there. The absolute last thing I needed in my life at the moment was to have confusing feelings about a club member who was completely off-limits.
Did I do that, though?
Nope. Of course not.
I leaned deeper into him.
I bit back a little moan as his arms instinctively tightened around me.
God, I missed this.
I wasn’t even sure I’d ever had this. But that base, primal part of me had been craving exactly this without ever realizing it: feeling safe and protected in a strong man’s arms. Knowing that so long as I stayed just like this, nothing bad could ever happen to me.
Then, as I leaned into that comfort, Perish had to go ahead and let one of his hands drift up to gently knead the back of my neck, working loose knots I swear I’d been born with.
And, well, after that initial tenderness faded, it felt good. Good enough that a little, well, moan escaped me.
I was close enough to Perish to feel the way his breath caught at the sound, to notice that his arm around my waist almost seemed to shake with… what? The urge to release me? Or, dare I even think it, touch me?