Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
____
A loud crash tears me from sleep.
I bolt upright, stomach seizing. My heart hammers as I blink back the darkness. What the fuck was that? Where am I? What time is it?
A persistent, roaring howl fills the silence. Glancing at the windows beside the bed, I see nothing but blackness. Occasionally there’s a crackle, like sand being thrown against the glass.
It’s sleet. And a lot of wind.
I shiver. My nose is numb.
Everything inside me goes still. What happened to the heat? Did the electricity go out?
The ceiling groans. My stomach bottoms out. I reach for my phone on the bedside table, which apparently hasn’t been charging. It’s two o’clock in the morning.
Dropping my phone and flinging back the covers, I suck in a breath at the shock of cold air that greets me. I’m shivering, shaking, and I—
“You okay?”
Startling, my blood turns to ice at the sound of the voice by the door. Instinctively, I hit the flashlight button on my screen and hold it up.
“You’re naked!” I don’t know why I’m whispering.
I do know why I’m staring.
Duke stands just inside the doorway.
He is totally, completely, gloriously naked. He also makes absolutely no attempt to cover himself up.
For some reason, that doesn’t surprise me. Makes sense that someone who works with animals all day would be totally at home in the animal that is his own body.
Makes sense he’d be totally unashamed.
I wish I could say my gaze lingered on the whorls of dark blond hair that cover his broad chest. Or the deliciously satisfying way his waist tapers into chiseled hips.
But no.
No, my gaze catches on the beautiful cock that hangs between his massive thighs. He’s thick, long, a vein running down the side of his velvety-looking shaft. His head is wide and pink. His pubic hair matches the hair on his chest: wiry, dark, lush without being overwhelming.
A rush of saliva fills my mouth. Despite the fact that the room is freezing, a hot bloom of renewed awareness unfurls between my legs. I thought about taking care of that when I climbed into bed earlier, but masturbating to images of Duke in his glasses sliding his hands up my shirt seemed like a dangerous activity, so I did my best to fall asleep despite the acute need that thrummed through my body.
“Heard the crash and came running,” he explains impatiently, flattening his palm on his heaving chest. “No time for clothes.” Or glasses apparently, because he’s not wearing those either.
He came running.
He heard a crash, and his first thought was to come find me.
My cunt throbs. Heart gallops.
“You sleep naked?”
His hand moves to cover his dick. “Sorry. I just had to make sure you were—”
“No”—I clear my throat—“apology necessary. I appreciate you checking in on me. What the hell was that sound?”
“Has to be a branch. Bigger than before, I think. I was gonna check it out after I made sure you were okay.” His pectoral muscle pops. That’s when I realize he’s shivering too.
“You’re freezing.”
“You’re scared. C’mon, let’s go make sure everything’s okay. Then you’re coming to bed with me.”
My heart leaps into my throat. Leaps again into my mouth. “I—”
“I’ll sleep on the floor if you want. But my room is in the basement, which seems like the safest place with all these trees around us.”
“So you’re saying I was right about the trees.”
He tilts his head, squinting. “I’m saying we need to be careful.”
I laugh. How could I not? Sleeping in a bed with Duke—a very, very naked Duke—seems like the opposite of being careful.
But then the wind roars and everything inside me heaves, and I know I should go with him.
I’m shaking so hard my teeth chatter.
“Aw, Wheeler—”
“I’m okay.” I’m not okay. “Let’s go.”
We head out into the living room, where I try not to watch Duke peering through every window. He’s still holding his hand over his dick, but the rest of him is still very much naked. His ass cheeks hollow out on the sides when he strains to see through the dark windows.
It’s freezing.
It’s pitch-black. Glancing at the kitchen, I see the clock on the stove isn’t working.
“Aha.” He jabs a finger at the pane beside the kitchen table. “Big old branch is lying right there. That had to be it. Far as I can tell, the tree is still standing.”
“Think it took out the power or something?”
Duke heads for the staircase that leads to the basement. “Maybe. Whatever the case, I was wrong about the generator.”
“You were wrong about”—my teeth chatter—“a lot of things.”
“At least I can admit it. C’mon, let’s get you warm.”
“How are you not an icicle?” I follow him down the stairs, holding up the flashlight on my phone so we can see.
Really so I can see the freckles that dot Duke’s shoulders and neck. He’s got the cutest little farmer’s tan. Or would it be cowboy tan?