Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Claire.
Frantic, sweat-soaked dreams. Fucking until the sun came up. Tasting her. Touching her at will. Just looking at her. But it wasn’t real. The feeling of lead in my balls was proof of that.
I’d never dreamed about a woman like that. Hell, I hadn’t even dreamed about sex since I was a teenager. And even then, it had never been about a specific person. Just faceless bodies doing what all teenage boys dreamed about. But this, this was something different. It was like all my desires came true, just sadly not in the real world. I fought off the urge to go back to bed, ignore the knocking at the door, and try to find the thread of the dream again . . . to find her.
I was fucking obsessed and I knew it.
Pathetic. But not if it pays off.
I pulled on my jeans and splashed water on my face, pushing my long hair away from my face. I was still in the dream. I felt hot. Aching. Unsatisfied.
Until I looked through the keyhole. A gorgeous, slightly cranky looking lady was on my doorstep holding a covered pie. The pie from last night, if I wasn’t mistaken. She was here, straight out of my dreams, and bearing gifts. And not just the ones the good Lord had given her.
I opened the door and smiled.
“Speak of the devil.”
Her pretty little mouth dropped open, instantly offended. At least the prim, pinched look was gone from her face.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
I just smiled.
“Is this a social call?”
She tossed her hair in annoyance.
“Gran thought you could have dessert for breakfast.”
“Your gran is a smart lady,” I said, stepping back to let her in. I was shirtless and barefoot. I saw her eye me warily. But she had the pie dish in her hands and nowhere to put it.
She stepped over the threshold, and I exhaled, not realizing I’d been holding my breath. I had her where I wanted her. Now I just had to keep her from running away. Or slapping me.
She stopped short in the living room and looked around in wonder. I had been hoping for that. I’d worked my ass off to make this place shine and it was paying off.
“Wow,” she said in a soft voice full of awe. “I didn’t know these little cottages could look like this.”
Bingo. Score some major points for Team Hunter. She was putty in my hands.
“I like working with my hands,” I said meaningfully. She blushed and blinked her eyes at me. Another point scored. I decided to take it easy on her.
“Kitchen’s that way,” I said with a smile. It was hard not to gloat when her eyes danced over my bare chest. Claire definitely liked what she saw. She looked dazed when she set the pie down on the newly installed island.
“Coffee?” I offered as I started a fresh pot.
“This is incredible,” she said, taking a slow turn.
“It’s not done yet. But we’re getting there.”
“We?”
“I have help. My brothers.”
“Brothers?”
I cracked a smile.
“Not by blood. The guys I ride with. My club.”
“Oh,” she said primly. I folded my arms across my chest, leaning a hip on the kitchen counter. I wanted her to stay. I wanted her to be comfortable here.
So I did my best not to make any sudden movements. The first rule of hunting wild animals was not to spook them. Not that I was the type to go out and shoot Bambi. But the same rules applied with the tasty little treat I had my eye on.
“Plates are in there,” I said with a head nod as I grabbed cups for the coffee. She looked adorably confused. I could tell she wanted to leave but couldn’t find a reason to. I hid a smile.
“Milk? Sugar?”
“No, thank you.”
“A simple woman,” I said, handing her a cup. She hadn’t moved so I went to grab plates for the pie. “I like that.”
We sipped our coffee, each of us watching the other . . . for very different reasons, of course. She watched me the way a small animal watches a larger one. I watched her the way a starving man eyes a juicy steak. And I wanted to taste her more than anything.
Speaking of eating . . .
I cut her a piece of pie and put it on the island with a fork. I cut a second piece and took a big bite.
“Delicious,” I said, giving her a meaningful look.
“It’s better hot,” she said, looking somewhat guilty.
“I don’t mind waiting,” I said with a complete lack of subtlety, giving her lush body a thorough look. Her cheeks turned bright pink. She opened her mouth—to put me in my place, no doubt—and then immediately snapped it shut again. I just smiled.
Somebody was working on their manners. I knew I had Miss Ellie to thank for that. And I was one hundred percent going to use that to my advantage.