Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
I don’t mean anything to him.
This would simply be an escape.
“Did you hear me?” he whispers. “I want to fuck you. I want to rip your clothes off right here and fuck you in the barn.”
I look down at the floor of the barn. It’s boards. Dirty boards. Hay everywhere, and the smell…
Yeah. Not sexy.
We’d both get filthy.
Oddly, that doesn’t seem to bother me.
What does bother me is that this would only be a fuck to him. An escape from his trauma, from what’s bothering him.
A simple release.
I’m better than that.
So why do I want to let him take what he needs so badly?
I once told Angie that I had a thing for blond guys.
Henry is about the best-looking blond guy I’ve ever laid eyes on, and I’ve laid eyes on some great ones.
“I heard you.” I push him away and step back.
He stares at me. “God, I could look into your eyes forever.”
My eyes? My eyes are simply brown. He’s the one with amazing eyes—that sky blue that seems to go on until the end of time.
For some reason, maybe on instinct, I close my eyes.
He grabs the back of my head, tilts my chin up. “Open them. Open your eyes.”
I obey him.
“You should never close your eyes, Tabitha. You have the most gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen.”
I frown. “They’re just plain brown.”
“They’re light brown, the color of caramel. And your lashes are so long.”
My lashes are long, but they’re brown, not black. I have to use mascara for anyone to even see them.
I open my mouth to say this, but then I close it, thinking better of it. Henry isn’t here to learn about my makeup routine.
“I could stare into them forever,” he continues.
I part my lips, lick the bottom one.
He lets out a soft groan.
“My eyes are nothing compared to yours,” I say. “Did you know that blue eyes are a mutation? That some say people with blue eyes are descended from aliens?”
The words echo in my head.
What the hell did I just say?
I’ve got this beautiful man wanting to fuck me, waxing poetic about my eyes, and I mention aliens? Please, barn floor, swallow me now.
He gives me a semi-smile. “Ever fucked an alien?”
Oh. My. God.
This isn’t happening.
“I… I have to go.”
I break away from him, and without looking back, I race out the barn door.
Big mistake.
I run into torrential rain, and I’m soaked within the first two seconds.
Then another lightning bolt and thunderclap.
Way too close for comfort.
Henry runs out, grabs me, and pulls me back into the barn. “Are you crazy?”
“It’s just…”
“Just what?”
I don’t respond.
“For God’s sake, Tabitha, what?”
“I don’t want to be… I mean, I’m not the kind of girl you think I am.”
His eyebrows twitch. “You mean the girl who would fuck a guy she hardly knows in the barn while it’s raining?”
I nod slightly.
“Look at it this way,” he says. “You’re not fucking a guy you hardly know. You’re fucking an alien you hardly know.”
“Henry…”
“For all you know, I could have some kind of weird space cock that will pleasure you like nothing else.”
I draw in a breath.
Why did I make that alien remark again?
God, Tabitha, you have to work on your conversation skills with men who are ridiculously attractive.
“How long do you think this rain is going to last?” I ask.
“No way to tell. Most summer storms come and go pretty quickly, but then there are some that last for hours.”
“And it will get dark eventually,” I say.
He checks his phone. “Yeah, between eight and nine o’clock.”
I look at my watch. It’s eight o’clock now.
“I shouldn’t have come on so strong,” he says.
“You’re right about that.” I tilt my head. “Why did you?”
He moves away from me, pushes his damp hair off his forehead. “Because you’re fucking gorgeous. Because I’m a fucked-up mess. Because I just really want to take you to bed.”
“Here?”
“What? You’ve never fucked in a barn before?”
“I grew up in the suburbs, Henry. Have you?”
He chuckles. “Only about a hundred times. Then again, I grew up on a ranch.”
Something like jealousy spears into my gut. Why should I care that Henry’s fucked a hundred times in the barn? It doesn’t mean he’s fucked a hundred women. Though he probably has. I mean, look at him.
I sigh. “Henry, I’m here for the wedding. I don’t want anything to mess this up for Angie.”
“You think I do?”
“No, that’s not what I mean at all, and you know it. But if I let you screw me in this barn, then things will be awkward between us for the rest of the time. That’s not very kind to Angie and Jason.”
“It will only be awkward if you let it be.” He steps toward me again.
“This isn’t going to happen,” I say.
“Isn’t it?” His eyes bore into mine.
Then he leans down, grabs my face—not gently—and crushes his lips to mine.