Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Sighing, she pushed open the bedroom door, the rumble in her empty stomach becoming more insistent than her desire to avoid Cody.
He stood at the stove, somehow managing to look both manly and incredibly sexy as he flipped something in a pan with a spatula. His broad shoulders rippled with muscle, and his torso tapered to a narrow waist followed by the best ass she’d ever seen on a man. There was something about those ripped, worn-out jeans.
Yum. Just yum.
She cleared her throat. “What are you making?”
The way he paused before speaking told her he’d known the whole time that she’d been standing there watching. Well, of course he had. He probably had extrasensory wolf instincts. She wondered what other gifts wolves possessed, apart from being able to jump from two-story windows, catch one hundred twenty-five pounds of falling woman, and drive a motorcycle like the 1970s hotshot Evel Knievel.
“Grilled cheese.”
She snorted. “I should’ve figured that, Walmart boy.” It was a low blow. Actually, she loved grilled cheese, but Cody had decided she was some kind of diva, so she figured she’d play the part just to goad him. It worked.
He whirled, brows down low over his eyes. “I didn’t promise to feed you,” he warned, with a shake of the spatula at her.
She smirked and sauntered forward, pretending he didn’t look scary as hell. Backwards though it was, after what had just passed between them, she’d lost much of her fear of him. She’d seen his limits. “Keeping me alive probably involves feeding me, though, don’t you think?”
His lips pressed together in a thin line. “Don’t push your luck.” He turned back to the stove and flipped a grilled cheese onto a plate beside a whole tomato. He thrust the plate in her direction, without turning to look at her.
She took it and looked down at the tomato, wondering how in the hell he expected her to eat it. Also, there was nowhere to eat. She hadn’t noticed before, but he lacked a table and chairs. Rolling her eyes, she walked to the sofa and plopped down. No wonder it seemed dirty. This was where he must eat all his meals.
A moment later he joined her, sitting in the armchair across from her, his plate stacked with four grilled cheese sandwiches and two tomatoes.
Because she enjoyed needling him, she picked up the tomato. “How exactly do you expect me to eat this?”
The tic showed up in his jaw again. “I don’t care how you eat it, or whether you eat it, princess. In fact, while you’re here, maybe I should put you in charge of cooking.” His eyes slid sideways and she caught the glint of goading in them. “I could use a live-in housekeeper around here.”
That thought shouldn’t turn her on. Especially not after living with Jeremy, who did absolutely nothing around the house. It must be the wicked way Cody looked at her that made her heart tumble and her flesh heat. She imagined wearing a little French maid’s costume and running around to serve him under threat of a spanking while he waited with those powerful arms folded across his chest.
Stop it. Just stop. This guy was another Mr. Wrong. Definitely not the guy for her.
To throw it back at him, she held his gaze, picked up the tomato and took a big bite of it, as if it were an apple. Juice and seeds dribbled down her chin, but she didn’t move to wipe them away.
Cody stared at her mouth, his expression turning hungry.
She jumped, pulse racing, when he leaped to his feet and stalked toward her.
“What are you doing to me?” he demanded in a guttural voice.
She froze, the tomato still gripped in her fingers in front of her mouth, juice dripping down her arm. She wasn’t sure what he meant.
He grabbed the tomato out of her hand and then his mouth was upon hers. His tongue lapped up the juices before his lips descended on hers in a brutal kiss.
She gasped.
He hooked one hand behind her neck and hauled her to stand, body pressed against his, and took her mouth again and again.
Her nipples, bare beneath his oversized t-shirt, puckered and stood up, rubbing against the soft cotton.
When he broke away, he stared down at her like a man possessed. “Are you really sure you want to play that game with me?”
Dizzy with desire, she probably would have fallen over if he hadn’t been holding her tight against his hard body.
She thought about playing innocent and asking “what game?” but they seemed beyond that. Cody had effectively put her on notice—nearly anything she did that might be construed as sexual put her in danger of getting fucked by him. And she bet he fucked hard and rough, like his manners.
She stared at his stubbled chin, not quite able to lift her eyes to his face.