Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
His fingers push into my hair to massage my scalp. “What kind of things used to ground you, Jenna?”
“Old movies. The treehouse in my backyard growing up. Cup stacking.”
Penn’s lips quirk at one end. “Cup stacking?”
“I was really good,” I whisper wistfully.
“Hmm.”
He’s looking at my mouth, and I can’t help it, I open my thighs a little on the stool, my eyes fairly glazing over when he inches his big hips between them. Even if he’s grumbling and shaking his head, as if he knows our proximity is a bad idea.
“What grounds you, Penn?”
“Splitting logs. A big Sunday breakfast. My kid.”
“What’s her name?” I ask.
“Erin. We were having a tic-tac-toe marathon when Zander called and told me you were in here, looking like a deer in the headlights.”
“I often do.” I wet my lips, scooting a little closer to the edge of the stool and watching his eyes darken. “I heard the bartender tell someone I’m off limits. That Penn Holland said so.” I reach between us and play with the button of his jeans. “Am I off limits to everyone but you, Daddy?”
His thick chest shudders up and down. “Don’t do this to me in public, baby.”
“Only in private?”
He swallows heavily, his hesitation plain.
Play it cool. Don’t come on too strong again.
“I was a little…overwrought earlier. My emotions were all over the place and I might have m-made you think I wanted something serious. Like a relationship.” I tease the line of his zipper with the tip of my index finger, tracing the gigantic bulge all the way down to the root, setting his teeth on edge. “But all I really need is one memorable night.” I shake my hair back. “Don’t you want to give that to me?”
He snags my wrist before I can give his arousal a full-on massage. “Goddammit, Jenna. You are—”
“Too young. I know. I can’t help that.” Straightening as much as I can, I let a warm breath out against his hard mouth. “Can’t you turn off the lights and try not to think about the year on my driver’s license?”
A strangled moan comes from deep in his chest. “Baby, if we were to fuck, every light in the house would be on.” He gives a sharp shake of his head. “If I was to keep the lights off, it would be for your benefit. Not mine.”
My brow knits. “What does that mean?”
He huffs a humorless laugh. “You might catch a glimpse of this old, battle-scarred bull pumping for broke between those toned thighs and wonder what the hell you were thinking.”
The raw image projected by those words causes me to gasp and tingle, another round of dampness soaking into my already sodden panties. “Don’t say things like that to me unless you’re going to do them,” I say haltingly. “Was your ex-wife the same age as you?”
He’s as caught off guard by the subject change as I am. “A year older, actually,” he says slowly. With caution. “An appropriate age.”
Red flashes in my vision. “Wow. Good for her.”
I glare up at him like a petulant brat, trying to twist away. I’m not sure how this jealousy snuck up on me so fast, but it’s potent and biting. Impossible to overcome, too, so I slide off the stool, fully intending to stomp out of the bar like a child—but Penn’s giant hands lock around my hips, and my ass is slapped back down onto the seat with no warning and no nonsense, his forehead plastering itself to mine.
“You stay where I put you, little girl. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I sob, shaking uncontrollably on the stool.
Need this. Need this. Need this.
“I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. Never been this hard, this horny. Never needed to hold someone almost as badly as I need to fuck ’em.” He fists my hair and tugs it back, baring his teeth against the underside of my chin. “You’ve obsessed me top to bottom in a matter of fucking hours. I’m losing it over you. Is that what you need to hear?”
My nod is vigorous, my fists twisting in the front of his flannel. “Yes. More.”
“You want me to bring you back to your frilly pink trailer and give you a spanking for trying to storm off on me?” I can’t even answer, my intimate muscles are twisted up so tight, so I just moan, my neck basically powerless. “Because God help me, I am dying to yank up the back of that dick tease skirt and give it a backhand.”
“I can’t feel my legs,” I whimper.
“Don’t worry, little girl. I’ll carry you.”
And that’s exactly what he does. I’m carried out of the bar in a sea of lifted phones that are no doubt recording me, while I’m being whisked away by a much older, much bigger lumberjack. I have the presence of mind to bury my face in his neck, so it won’t be seen, ignoring the alarmed calls of my name coming from my manager.