Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 144435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
It does not get the reaction I expected.
The crazy man just laughs and hums louder.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asks twenty minutes later, hooking his hand into the hood of my coat to stop me when I try to slide past him out of the cozy cabin. And by cozy, I mean tiny. It's one room with a bathroom. The bed takes up most of the room, with a small sitting area and a tiny kitchen on the opposite side. The fireplace across from the bed warms the space. The view of the mountains from the windows is breathtaking, even I can't deny that.
"You said we had to prep the cabins." This one looks good to me. It's obvious that they've been well cared for. I don't know how often he comes up here to check on them, but the place is spotless. It probably seems like heaven to couples who have been hiking or skiing all day.
"Later," he grunts, dragging me into his arms. "We've got something to take care of right now, Sunshine."
"We do?"
"Yeah, we do." He nuzzles his face against the side of my throat, causing my stomach to clench as a wave of heat rushes through me. "What am I going to do with you, hmm?"
"Well, if you want my opinion, I definitely don't think you should put a gun in my hands and ask me to shoot a poor, defenseless animal," I say, even though I'm pretty sure that's not what he's talking about. I'm pretty sure we were never really talking about that in the first place. I mean, we were, but that discussion ended as soon as he brought up his rules. "I'm more likely to shoot you or Tyr or me."
"Well, we can't have that, now, can we?" he murmurs, stripping me out of my coat. It falls to the floor at our feet. I shiver even though the fire roaring in the fireplace is already warming the cabin.
"No," I whisper. "Definitely not."
His rough hands skim up my side, eliciting another shiver. Every time he touches me, I feel him everywhere as if he's leaving little trails of energy in his wake. They wash over me in an electrical storm of desire. It's incredible.
"I drove myself crazy last night, thinking about you alone in your bed, Sunshine." His palms skim over my breasts, pulling a groan from my lips. I arch toward his touch, my body under his spell. Heck, who am I kidding? I think my heart is under his spell too. I'm falling for him. It shouldn't be possible. He's cranky and bossy and I barely know a thing about him. But he's worming his way into my heart anyway, wiggling right in like he's supposed to be in there.
"Me too," I confess. "I thought about sneaking into your bed so many times, Deacon."
"I know," he grunts, dragging his thumbs over my nipples. "I heard you pacing the floor. Goddamn, these little things are like diamonds, baby."
"Uh, yeah. It's cold outside and you're touching them, Deacon."
He pinches the left one.
My shocked yelp bleeds into a loud moan.
"You don't know how to behave, do you?"
"No." I turn my head against his chest, looking up at him. "I've never behaved a day in my life." His steely eyes settle on me. "But I think you like me that way, don't you?" I ask, marveling at the realization. Most of my life, I've been a mess. It's just who I am. I don't apologize for it. If I'm too much for someone, then I'm not meant for them. But I've been too much for a lot of people.
The whole world wants me to shrink to fit into some box they've predesigned for me. One where I'm quiet and proper and don't have bright pink hair or charge full speed ahead at everything I do. But I didn't just almost die in the wilderness when I was thirteen. I made a promise to myself that if I survived, I'd live. Truly live.
I'd rather be too much for people and leave this world knowing I experienced everything it had to offer and did everything I was meant to do, than to shrink myself to fit some mold and die deformed and repressed just because society said that's who I had to be. I'm curvy and loud and a little bit mental. I talk back and stand up for myself and rarely behave. But I'm happy. I love who I am.
"Good," Deacon growls, wrapping one hand around my throat. "Don't behave. Drive me up the fucking wall, Sunshine. Break my rules." His eyes gleam, sin and sex glittering like stars in the darkness. "Because I don't plan to behave with you, either." He squeezes my throat gently, lowering his mouth to mine. "I plan to be very, very bad when it comes to you, Cordelia Shanks."