Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 90315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
He chuckles, and the sound moves through me like music. I can probably count on two hands the number of times I’ve heard this man laugh in all the years that I’ve known him.
If he’d cracked a smile more often, or let out a chuckle like that, I would have been so gone over him, I would have humiliated myself on the daily.
But it was the hug earlier that made the butterflies erupt and my skin prickle, and my freaking vagina do the two-step. Being held by Gideon James is an experience that everyone should have at least once in their lives, and yet, if one single woman were to touch him right now, I’d scratch her eyes out.
After I cut her hands off with this box cutter.
“You have a devious grin on that gorgeous face of yours.”
Wait. He thinks my face is gorgeous?
Since when?
“What were you thinking about?” he asks.
“Psh. Nothing.” I slice through the tape of the first box and rejoice when I find three pairs of jeans. “Thank God, denim in my actual size. The ones I’m wearing are about to sever me in half. My ass has grown. I think my kidneys are shutting down. Turn around.”
He lifts a brow. “What?”
“Turn. Around. I have to put these on. Everything else is getting washed before I wear it, but I’m trashing these torturous jeans that I’m wearing immediately. Maybe we’ll burn them. Incinerate them. They deserve it.”
He just stares at me.
“I’m going to strip, big guy. If you would please turn around, I’d appreciate it.” Shrugging, I pop the button on the fly, and he turns his back to me.
And what a backside it is.
Broad shoulders are encased in his black T-shirt, with muscles that ripple with every movement. That back tapers to a slim waist and the best damn ass I’ve ever seen. You could totally bounce a quarter off his ass. His thighs are like tree trunks. No wonder he could carry me on his back for more than a mile.
My nipples tingle at that reminder.
Down, nipples.
I work the jeans over my hips and am shimmying back and forth, peeling them down my thighs, but suddenly they’re caught around my ankles, and I hop twice before I face-plant on the hardwood, narrowly missing breaking my nose.
“Ouch.”
“Shit, are you okay?”
“Don’t turn around.”
“Too late.”
I wince before opening my eyes and looking up at Gideon, who’s now standing over me, his eyes raking over my body.
My ass is in the air. Covered only in a pair of red satin panties circa seven years ago because the hoodie has ridden up my back.
And his eyes are pinned to my backside.
“Gideon?”
“Stay where you are.”
Narrowing my eyes, I push up onto my hands and knees, and he lets out a string of curses that would make a sailor blush.
Or an army Ranger.
“Just get my feet untangled, and do not check out my ass.”
“Also too late.”
I whimper, but he’s suddenly at my feet, tugging on the legs of the denim until he wiggles them over my feet, freeing me.
“Thanks. Now, turn back around.”
“Not a chance in hell,” he replies. His voice is deeper now, almost growly, and I push up onto my feet and reach for the new jeans, begging my core to calm the hell down. “How did you get that scar?”
I pause before pushing my feet into the legs and twist so I’m looking back at my upper thigh and the white scar that spans from left to right.
“I was shaving in the shower and slipped. Cut myself on the way down.”
His jaw works and eyes heat with that explanation.
“So you’re saying you’re a fall risk. Do I need to have handrails installed everywhere in my house?”
“Har har. You’re funny. That cut hurt, too, but not nearly as bad as the nipples.”
I push my feet into the jeans and grin when I zip them up and they feel amazing.
“That’s so much better.”
“If you say so.”
“Are you flirting with me, big guy?”
I tilt my head to the side, set my hands on my hips, watching him.
“What happened to your nipples?”
“Huh?”
“You said it didn’t hurt as bad as the nipples. What happened?”
He’s slowly walking closer to me, and my breaths speed up with every step. His muscles are coiled tight, as if he’s going to strike.
I really want him to strike.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Tell me.”
Pressing my lips together, I wince. “They’re pierced.”
He stops moving. His gray eyes go wide, and his jaw drops in surprise.
“Didn’t expect that, did you?”
“Your fucking nipples are pierced?” His gaze drops to my boobs, which are hidden beneath his hoodie.
“Yeah.” I shrug, reach for the knife, and resume opening boxes. After pulling out the contents, I toss the empty cardboard aside, getting excited with every new garment I uncover. “This is going to be so cute with leggings.”
“Why did you pierce yourself, Rebel?”