Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“Sorry,” some guy—who has definitely had one too many—huffs.
I glare at him, trying to hold onto my temper. I’m pretty sure that Beau wouldn’t like it if I land in jail for beating a man senseless on our first date. I turn us so that I give the asshole my back, placing me between him and Beau. Then, I force myself to look back at her with a smile on my face. “Not exactly how I wanted that kiss to end,” I respond with a grin. I’m instantly rewarded with a deep blush on her cheeks. You would think after the night we shared together she wouldn’t be able to blush. For some insane reason, the fact that she does makes me fucking happy.
“That probably shouldn’t have happened,” she whispers. My fingers tighten on her hips as I hold her against me, forcing her to feel how hard I am for her. There’s no way she can’t notice. “Hunter …”
I ignore the look of fear on her face. I’m not backing down. She needs to get used to that now. “Back to getting to know one another. My question is how did the nickname cowboy come about? I don’t ride horses and never will—”
“I don’t—”
“Yes, I know that’s probably a sacrilege considering we live in Kentucky—the self-proclaimed horse capital of the world. Still, I’m not a horse and livestock kind of guy. Dogs are good, but that’s about it,” I explain, waiting for her answer.
“I’m more of a cat person,” she answers immediately, looking very serious.
“Dogs are man’s best friend,” I point out.
“No, men are dogs who are however always searching for pussies,” she mutters, shocking the hell out of me. “So, cats are obviously where it’s at.”
I throw my head back, unable to contain my laughter. She might blush when it comes to me touching her, but right there is complete evidence of the backbone-take-no-prisoners girl I met that night at the party, is still alive and well. Which is fucking good news for me.
“There’s the spitfire I met months ago,” I confess, enjoying the fact that I’m here with Beau.
“I’m also the woman you threw away the next morning,” she reminds me.
“And the woman I’ve spent months obsessing over,” I argue.
She lets out a sigh and I take her hand, leading her toward the pool tables. “I guess we’re playing pool now,” Beau complains, definitely sounding disgruntled.
“So, about the nickname …”
“You’re wild and untamed. That’s how I picture a cowboy. You may not ride a horse, but you ride a bike, and you live a simple life with your own set of rules. Satisfied?”
I grin. “I’m gettin’ there, Harper. I’m gettin’ there.”
Once again, I see fear on her face. Then, she beats it down. “Don’t you owe me something?” she finally says, breaking our stare-down.
“You name it, baby. I’ll give it to you.”
I smirk when she rolls her eyes. “You were supposed to tell me the real reason you got the tattoo on little Bart,” she answers. There’s a look of challenge in her eyes. It turns me on. I can’t deny that. Although, I was kind of hoping she’d forget about it. No man wants his girl to know how big of an idiot he was—and since I kicked her out of my room at the club, signs are pointing to the fact that I’m still an idiot.
I pull her close to me so that we can start dancing again. It’s mostly an excuse to have her in my arms. It does help, however, that I don’t have to look her in the eyes when she realizes how dumb I was … “Damn it,” I mutter.
“Hunter?”
“No man wants his girl to realize she could do much better than him,” I mutter, refusing to let her pull away.
“Just tell me,” she grumbles, but she relaxes against me.
I take a deep breath, which is filled with her strawberries and cream scent. It helps to relax me. “Fuck it,” I finally mutter, starting to feel like a pussy. “Mrs. Crumbly liked to use her teeth,” I exhale.
I feel her body tense and she shakes her head, tilting it back to look up at me. “Huh?”
“When giving a blow job. She used her teeth, biting on my dick.”
Beau’s eyes get big as saucers. “She bit you?”
“Constantly. That’s why between her squeezing my balls and biting on my dick, I took forever to get where I needed to go,” I explain.
“And the danger tattoo?”
“Well, Mrs. Crumbly didn’t swallow because right at the big moment she bit me so hard that I yanked my cock out of her mouth in reaction—and a lot of self-preservation.”
“Oh my God …” she gasps.
“The problem was she had a tight grip on my balls with her hand and a tighter one on my shaft with her teeth. When I yanked, she wouldn’t let go. So, the skin tore on my dick.”