Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 110360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
A mischievous twitch at the corner of my mouth caught my attention.
Yes. Only the twitch.
Not the way her tongue snaked out to dampen her lips, or the way her gaze heated.
Just.
The.
Fucking.
Twitch.
“Thanks for talking to me tonight,” she said. “I know the whole personal life thing is off-limits, but it was fun getting a brief glimpse into teenage Devon Grant.”
My back shot straight. The words hit like a bucket of ice water.
Shit. How many of my own damn rules had I broken in the span of thirty minutes with this woman?
I couldn’t let my guard down and allow myself to get comfortable with her.
No fucking way I was taking a client down that road again.
Not after—
“Goodnight.” I walked into my temporary bedroom and shut the door.
I heard her on the other side of the door, mocking my voice like she had in the car.
“It was great getting to know you too, Lofton. We should do that again sometime.”
I made a mental note that even the doors were paper thin in that house.
Good news for the job.
Not so good for nights when I needed to fist my cock.
Like, say…tonight.
11
LOFTON
Me: Is it okay if I go out to the barn?
I felt bad about texting him so early, but duty called. He must not have been asleep because his reply was almost immediate.
Devon: Yes.
The sun remained hidden behind the horizon as I stepped onto the porch.
I drew in a deep breath, a smile breaking across my face. Only a girl who had grown up on a farm would be nostalgic over the scent of grass, manure, and hay. Six a.m. came early, but I loved this part of my day. I hadn’t shared that affection as a teen, dragging myself out of bed before school to do chores. But as I’d gotten older, I’d learned to appreciate the peace before the rest of the world awoke.
With Dad’s bedroom window nearby, I took the wooden steps as quietly as my paddock boots would allow. When I got across the driveway, I heard water running in the barn.
Shit. Salty had probably broken the automatic waterer off the wall again. Last time, he flooded half the barn before Jenn realized what he’d done.
I took off running, praying I would not be spending the rest of my day digging out wet stalls.
I rounded the corner of the barn and then stopped dead.
Devon stood at the wash rack at the other end of the barn, the hose arched over his shoulder as a stream of water cascaded down his body. Running shorts hung low on his hips. No shirt. No shoes. No warning whatsoever. A small toiletry bag and towel sat on a nearby stool while he rinsed soap from his hair.
Oh.
My.
God.
Water rolled down his muscular chest, tracing the hard lines of his abs before disappearing into the waistband of his shorts. His thick biceps flexed each time he lifted the hose, sexy veins running along his forearms.
My traitorous brain immediately returned to the fantasy I’d had of him in jeans and a tank top. The universe had clearly taken that thought and said, Hold my beer.
He turned toward me, and I quickly ducked out of the doorway, plastering my back to the side of the barn. I wasn’t sure if I was trying not to get caught so I wouldn’t look like a creep, or so I could buy myself more time to keep watching.
“What are you doing up so early?” he asked.
Dammit!
I swallowed hard, relying on my acting experience more than ever as I rounded the corner, stepping back into the barn. “Oh, nothing.”
Yep. That’s what I said. I needed to return my Oscar immediately.
He arched a brow.
“I mean, nothing special. Just feeding the horses.”
“Right.” He dropped the hose, turned it off, and then grabbed the pink towel I recognized from my bathroom. His muscles gave the most brilliant show as he dried off.
And like a dope, I stood there, biting my bottom lip as I watched his every move.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. Totally.” Desperate for a distraction, I grabbed a lead rope off the hook by Salty’s door. It served absolutely no purpose when it came to feeding, but I couldn’t put it back without looking like a fool. Wait. Correction. Without looking even more like a fool. So I just hooked it over my shoulder and kept my hands—and eyes—busy by collecting feed buckets. “Any particular reason you’re showering out here?”
“Worked out, needed to get cleaned up.”
“You know there’s a shower in the house, right?”
“You were asleep.”
“So?” I twisted my lips and made the mistake of looking at him again.
His abs rippled as he dragged a hand through the top of his short, brown hair, water droplets flicking off the ends. “You needed the sleep. Didn’t want to wake you.”
“Oh, please,” I laughed, hoping to jumpstart my lungs again. “I used to sleep through Jenn blasting death metal. I think I can handle you taking a shower.”