Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Creep clears his throat and gets back to his ice cream. “Yes. You look very nice.” He even dares a shy little smile like he didn’t full on ravish me last night. “And while we’re in town, I thought we could go see some furniture stores? Pick up a few things for your new home?”
I blink, thinking about the poor state of my bank account, and wave my hand, tasting the delicious lemon sorbet. “Oh… I mean, we can look, but the cabin has all the necessities. I don’t mind it being the way it is at all, especially now that I added some personal touches.”
“No, no. You need an armchair, and maybe shelves for your things? They’re still in boxes. A chest of drawers. A pretty wooden one with crystals for handles. You just choose, and I’ll get it for you.” He stuffs the rest of the ice cream into his mouth all at once, and now resembles a very handsome hamster.
I reach out and wipe a bit of cream from his chin, before bringing it to my own mouth. “Are you sure? I mean… yes, it would be lovely to have crystal handles, and some new storage, but that’s going to cost a lot of money. I don’t want to burden you with that.”
Sucking money out of Domino, Adam, or Johnny? Never had an issue with that, but Creep is so gentle, so earnest, and I don’t want him to feel like he has to buy my attention.
He follows my fingers to my mouth without blinking. “It’s fine. I’ve got lots of savings. Over the past years, I’ve not really spent much. Would you like new bedding too?”
I guess that’s what happens when you live in a cave. And if he really wants to, maybe I should let him treat me?
“You know you don’t have to?” I ask, itching to put that point across. “I already liked you in the cave.”
Creep snorts. “You didn’t like me in the cave. But that's okay. You’re… our guest in Vulture Hollow, you should be treated right. But also, I want to.”
I laugh. “I was afraid of you in the cave, which is different, but ok—”
I shut my mouth at the sight of a huge yellowjacket flying straight at my face. I grab the hem of my silky cardigan and flap it about to chase the wasp off, but then I sense a tremble at my side, between my tank top and cardigan, and something sharp jabs at my flesh.
My ice cream cone drops to the tiles as I lift the loose fabric, and the insect flies out from under it with an angry buzz.
I try to love all creation, but fuck do I hate wasps!
“Ow!” I cry out, not even embarrassed over how sorry I feel for myself.
Creep’s eyes are wide, and he looks between me, the wasp, and the ice cream, then makes his decision. With a snarl, he claws at the wasp, but it slips out of his grasp.
“Don’t! It’s enough that one of us got stung,” I whine, but he’s not listening. The wasp buzzes away, and he follows it like a man possessed.
“No! It hurt you! It deserves to die!”
Several heads turn my way. I ignore them, but while my cheeks flame, there’s a sense of satisfaction to others knowing a guy as hot as Creep cares for my comfort that much, even if he expresses it in a way that’s a bit silly.
I get up, deciding to grab some coffee while waiting for Creep’s return, but halfway through the ice cream parlor’s garden, I notice the hum of a familiar engine. Living in Vulture Hollow, I’ve gotten somewhat used to the sound of various motorcycles, but this roar sounds like a warning, and I skitter away behind an old-fashioned fridge containing various desserts. I barely make it before Domino slows, stopping close to Creep’s bike.
Damn it.
It was stupid of me to venture out someplace this close to the Hell’s Butchers MC compound, because what did I expect? That the man I’ve been avoiding will just be staying home to make things convenient for me?
Domino’s a huge guy, with biceps like loaves of bread and a checkerboard tattooed into the right side of his face. The black and white tiles blend into his short hair and reach all the way to his cheekbone, as if the tattoo is a parasite taking over his skin.
What did I ever see in this guy?
Okay, I never fell for him, but why did I make the decision to sleep with him in the first place? And even if the aggressive appearance wasn’t enough of a warning, I should have fled the moment he threw the first homophobic insult my way.
Though at that point, I already didn’t feel it was safe to withdraw before he got bored.