Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Her cheeks start blushing as she nods and disappears into the crowd to find the owners of the stolen gear.
“I’ll tell my boys to keep a look out too,” Graham says.
I want to tell him to stop distracting my deputy, but that’s just the competitive part of me coming out. I’m a little jealous that he found his soulmate and I… haven’t.
“Fine,” I mutter before walking away.
I head over to the large crowd in front of the stage. They’re all watching a guy singing and playing guitar. He’s pretty good, singing a slower version of Bad Moon Rising by CCR. This is a perfect place for pickpockets. Everyone is crowded together, watching the show, and they’ll hardly notice any sticky fingers slipping into their pockets and purses.
But I’ll notice.
I stand there for three more songs, scanning the crowd until a young father comes up to me with his four-year-old daughter sitting on his shoulders. “They shortchanged me at the ticket booth,” he complains. “I gave them a fifty but they only gave me change for a twenty, freaking crooks.”
“Let’s go talk to them,” I say, ready to tear the scammer a new one.
I take two steps toward the ticket booth and then stop, stunned.
The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen stops me in my tracks. She grabs my attention. She grabs my soul.
She’s… She’s… perfect.
I stare in awe as she walks toward the stage, pulling a huge instrument case on wheels. She’s with three other girls who are also carrying musical instrument cases, but my girl’s instrument is the largest one.
“Sheriff?” the dad asks, turning around now that I’ve stopped following him. “Are you coming?”
“Yeah,” I whisper, but my legs don’t seem to be working. My whole body has shut down.
I turn back to the girl and suck in a breath, heart pounding as I watch her. She has light brown hair, long and soft and falling past her shoulders. My fingers tingle as I imagine sliding my hands into those thick wavy locks and pulling her mouth to mine.
Those soft plump lips are unreal. They’re so pink. So damn tempting.
And those eyes—Christ, those big, luminous eyes. I need to see them up close, gazing at me. I want to get lost in them. I know one look up close and I’d never recover.
My cock stirs, thickening from the gorgeous view. Those curves… Those breasts… I have to have her.
But how old is she? Twenty-seven? Twenty-eight?
I’m fifty-two. Too damn old for an angel like her. I’d kill to go back in time. To be her age. To have a fucking shot.
I imagine kissing her and I can already taste her sweet delicious tongue. I can already hear her sexy little moans and whimpers as I devour her soft luscious mouth. I let out a desperate groan as my hungry eyes follow her to the stage.
The beautiful sundress she’s wearing is swaying in the breeze, showing off her flawless legs. The material is hugging her tantalizing curves—round waist, soft hips, sweet thighs. My fingers ache to grab her, spread her, own her. She has no idea how badly I want to lift her onto my lap, push that skirt up, and bury myself deep into her hot, tight, dripping wet pussy.
But the thing that’s really got me shook right now… It’s not just lust. It’s need.
Fifty-two years on this planet and I’ve never felt anything like this before. Not once. Not even close. I’ve lived without her my whole damn life, but now that she’s here, I don’t know how I can make it one more second without her in my arms.
“Sheriff,” the dad says. “Are you okay?”
I reach into my pocket, pull out a fifty dollar bill, and shove it into his hand. “Here. Take this instead.”
“But, the change wasn’t this much,” he says, sounding confused. “Are we still going to go talk to the guy?”
“No,” I say, staring at my girl. “It’s over.”
The guy seems confused, but he walks away mumbling something to himself. I know it’s unprofessional, but right now, in this magical moment, I’m incapable of being professional.
I can’t take my eyes off her. How can I walk away, wondering if I’ll ever see her again? Wondering if we’ll cross paths in the future? Wondering if I’ll have to spend the rest of my sad, lonely life obsessing over this moment and hating myself that I didn’t march up to that angel and take her as my own.
She’s mine.
That truth slams into me, raw and undeniable.
She’s mine.
I don’t care that I’ve never spoken to her. I don’t care that I’m too damn old. I don’t care that I don’t even know her name. My blood knows. My bones know. My heart knows. And my soul knows.
She belongs to me.
No one else is going to touch her. No one else is going to hear her laugh the way I will, or see her blush the way I will when she’s naked and trembling under me.