Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
I'm not going to tell this cotton candy-smelling angel to go fuck herself. Unless I could watch. Not so sure about that. I don’t want those delicate fingers playing with her pussy. I want mine to spread the lips open to reveal her little clit to me. I bet it tastes as sweet as she smells. "Killian? You don't have to tell me." I realize I've gotten lost in thoughts of her pussy and haven't answered the question.
"Not much to say. I'm an orphan."
"Oh gosh, I'm sorry. I suppose I kind of am too." She pauses before she keeps going, and I know she's thinking carefully about what she’s about to say. "You don't have anyone then?"
"No."
"Wow, I'm sorry," she says again. "I had Grams and Roland at least."
"And Minnie." When I glance over, I see my response has made her smile. It hits me hard in my chest, heat cascading out. I clear my throat. It has to be heartburn that I’m feeling. Why else would my chest ache? "And don't feel sorry for me. I enjoy being alone, and you can't miss what you don't know."
"That's true. I often wonder if I'd be less of a homebody if I went out more."
Those dumb fucks that I have plans to wrap my hands around their throats, I'm sure, played a role in that. If all she experienced was bullying, then staying home brought comfort. No one is going to bully her ever again. Not if they want to keep living.
"You're going out now."
"I am." She nods proudly to herself. Again, I get that warm sensation at perking her up. I don't care for her being upset. Normally I get enjoyment out of fucking up a person's day. They often have it coming. I don't go out of my way to be a dick—well, most of the time—but I don't shy away from it either. In fact, I lean into it.
A few of the men I worked with during my previous missions, before I became a freelancer, called me petty. I don't believe in that karma bullshit. If there was such a thing, Teddy wouldn't have stumbled right into my path like a gift. I am karma.
When she lets out another one of her yawns, I know it's time to find a place to crash for the night. I've gotten us a handful of hours away from her home. Now I want to settle in and get a few hours of sleep and be able to stare at her without worrying about driving off the side of the road.
"I'll hit the next exit for a place to crash for the rest of the night."
"I brought cash," she tells me. "So that we can't be tracked."
"Do you believe you're going to be tracked?" I'm the only one tracking her little ass, or I’d better be.
"You never know." There is a small hitch to her voice, and I know there is someone she believes would track her. Does she know what Tristan is capable of? I'm guessing not. Not many do. They simply think he's a cutthroat businessman. Not that he might actually cut a person's throat. Not as many as I have, but he's got a couple under his belt.
"You know, if you think a person might be tracking you, I should know. Is it Roland?" I'm not getting the sense that Roland is a bad dude, but I'll be triple-checking into him either way.
"There is a lawyer that helps me with things since Grams passed. He can be pushy."
I’ll push his ass right off a cliff. Another mental note. I've got lots of fuckers to check on.
"I hate to break it to you, but cash isn't going to work."
“Oh, really?” Her nose gives a small scrunch. I saw that she has stacks of cash in her bag, along with a variety of jewelry, and based on the crown she is wearing, I assume it is all real and that she has no intention of pawning it.
"Places nowadays want identification and a credit card in case you do damage."
"Right." A small huff leaves her.
"Except for places that let you rent by the hour and have high chances of having bedbugs."
"Bed what?"
"Bedbugs."
She wraps her arms around herself. "I don't like bugs."
"We're not staying in one of those motels." No way am I letting this pretty peach in that kind of room. The sheets alone aren't good enough to touch her delicate skin.
"I have a credit card." She starts digging around in a small fanny pack that's on her hip.
"I've got it, Teddy Bear," I tell her as she finds a black card and pulls it out.
"Oh, then I can give you that cash." She snaps her fingers, excited that she's solved this.
"You don't need to do that. I would have had to get a room anyway."