Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 141(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 141(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
I raise a challenging eyebrow. “How do you know?”
He gives me a slightly withering look. “It’s common knowledge, Claire. Believe me, I’ve never experienced the Dixie firsthand.”
“It’s not that bad,” I say, shrugging. “I’ve only been propositioned twice.”
“What?” he shouts, the car swerving a tad on the road.
“Only kidding.” I maintain my cheeky smile until he glances over at me, a vein beginning to show in his temple. Ticking, ticking.
“You’re checking out of there tonight and never going back,” he growls. “Men prowl that place looking for one thing and if they get a look at you, it’s over.”
There is a part of me that knows Draven is right. The Dixie is not the safest place to stay. I’ve only been living there for two nights, but some of the sounds coming through the walls are interesting, to say the least. Furthermore, I saw what looked to be an exchange of drugs right outside my window this morning. “The plan was to be there temporarily,” I say. “Until I can afford better. But…”
“But now you have me.”
Trepidation flutters in my stomach. “You don’t think we’re moving too fast—”
“No, little girl. I don’t.”
“Oh.” My nerves settle down again and I turn in my seat, helpless to do anything but moon over his handsome profile. The capability of his hands on the steering wheel. “Are people going to think it’s strange that you suddenly have a live-in girlfriend?”
“You’ve worked in my kitchen. Do you think I give a fuck what people think?”
I giggle. “No.”
He taps a row of fingers against the steering wheel. “Call yourself my girlfriend again.”
“I’m your girlfriend,” I whisper, reaching out to feel his bicep, my sex spasming when that muscle pops against my palm.
“Damn right you are.” He looks over at me in the near darkness, his features stern. “And that means I need to know what you’re running away from.”
I retract my touch from his arm, hugging myself reflexively in the seat. “How do you know I’m running away from something?”
“Eighteen-year-old girl turns up in a strange town, taking whatever jobs she can get, whether they’re appropriate or safe? Living in some flea bag motel?” The steering wheel creaks beneath his grip. Is he mad on my behalf? “You’re running from something.” We stop at a traffic light, and Draven reaches across the console to cup my jaw firmly. “Tell Daddy what it is.”
Wowsers.
Does he know how much that authoritative tone affects me?
He must.
He’s watching me squirm in the seat with knowing eyes.
As if he’s well-aware that the title I’ve bestowed on him makes me warm and wet.
“After my parents divorced, I lived with my father and stepmother. She came with a lot of kids and…she really didn’t like having me there. I’m a reminder of my mother, and they’d grown up together. Always fighting over my father, which I never understood. He’s nothing but a lazy, bitter, chimney smoking jerk.”
Draven’s lips twitch with a show of humor, but immediately he’s serious again. “Did he ever hurt you, Claire?”
“No,” I whisper, casting my eyes down to the console “But she did. Even though I cleaned and cooked and tried to earn my keep. And as her kids got older, they adopted their mother’s behavior. They thought it was normal to kick me as I passed or throw an elbow. They always made it seem like accidents and…” This part hurt the most. “My father believed them.”
The stoplight turns green, but Draven doesn’t move, his hand shaking where it holds my jaw. “If anyone ever hurts you again,” he says in a low pitch, “I will strangle them to death without hesitation.” A wave of pure agony moves across his face. “I’m sorry I was so mean to you tonight when you walked into the kitchen. God, I hate myself for that.”
“It’s okay. You have a scary reputation to maintain,” I say, teasingly. Breathless over his utter devotion to me. To protecting me. No one has ever worried about my safety before.
“It’s not okay.” He shakes his head. “You were so brave and beautiful, I felt the fucking ground quaking under my feet—and I reacted. That’s no excuse, though, and I’m going to make up for how I acted. I need you to forget I was ever anything but good to you.”
I turn my head to kiss his wrist. “I’m already forgetting.”
A horn toots behind us. Draven continues to stare at me, his adoring gaze tracing my face over and over again, like he can’t believe I’m real.
“I’m pretty sure the stoplight has been green three times since we stopped,” I whisper.
“How am I ever going to be a productive human being again when I have you to look at?” he asks, wetting his lips. “Fuck, I want to kiss you, but that taste will go right to my head. We need to get home first.”