Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 116875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
A smarter person would stop sassing the man who might kill them, but what’s the fun in that?
I’m giddy like I’m in the grips of a sugar rush and cannot be held responsible for my actions.
He swings by the front door, picks up a black duffel, and carries me upstairs to my ensuite bathroom. He flips me upright and sets me carefully on the sink counter. “Stay.”
I stick my tongue out at his back. The second he moves away, I’ll run again.
“What are you doing?” He’s removed the gloves he borrowed from my greenhouse and set his black duffel back beside the sink. “What’s in the bag?”
He’s set it out of reach. Now he’s rummaging around under my bathroom counter. “Do you need a tampon? I only have a Diva Cup. I’m on birth control that stops my period.”
“I know,” he says. That gives me pause.
“Did you look at my medical records?” That’s unsettling. I don’t want him knowing so much about me, but I am flattered he did his homework. I’ll need to find a way to use the information he knows against him.
He emerges with a new bar of soap. He unwraps it and sets it in the shower, then starts to strip.
Just like that, I can’t move. He starts with his shirt, whipping it off and revealing all the glorious muscles rippling under his tattoos. His skin has a golden tint to it, like he works outside. Maybe when he’s my husband, I can get him to mow my lawn shirtless.
New kink unlocked.
Next, he puts his hands on his belt. I press my legs together and whimper.
He glances at me.
“Don’t mind me,” I say, waving a hand. He’s been doing a good job of ignoring me so far, but there’s a glint in his eye that tells me he knows exactly what he’s doing.
I can’t even be mad! I’m only human, and his body puts Thorbjorn’s to shame. And Thorbjorn is a fictional character!
If I had the body of a demigod, I’d use it as an unfair advantage, too.
He pulls down his jeans, revealing tree trunk-like thighs, and the gods are smiling at me, because he’s wearing black briefs.
I get a brief glimpse of the outline of his dick before he turns away. My insides cramp, anticipating that log jammed up inside of me. He doesn’t have to choke me to death. He can just impale me with that thing, and I’ll die happy.
While I zoned out in a lust coma, he stepped into the shower and started washing. He’s not going to remove his underwear?
Then I notice his back. Among the tattoos is a huge scar in the shape of a skull. The design looks a lot like the skull ring he wears. Probably some Fraternitas thing, marking their members with a skull brand. The sight of it unsettles me a little. I can’t imagine how much it hurt.
He’s scrubbing with the new bar of soap, his face stoic. It’s got to hurt, but he’s acting like it doesn’t. He’s got scratches all over him from the blackberry briars, but the real issue is going to be the hogweed sap.
“I have some good soap for removing plant toxins,” I say. “Downstairs.”
He jerks his head, flinging his wet hair out of his face. He looks like he’s in a shampoo commercial if the shampoo company wanted to get all the viewers pregnant.
He ignores my offer to get the soap. He probably doesn’t trust anything I’d give him. That’s fair.
“Phototoxic?” he asks, and it takes me a second to figure out he’s referring to our conversation about hogweed.
“Yeah… it’ll blister in the sunlight.” I peer at his skin, and it already looks a little red. He’s definitely getting a rash. “Just wash really well and then make a paste with baking soda and water and apply it to any part of your skin that the plant touched. I can help.”
He doesn’t shout, “No.” His dead-eyed stare says it all.
“Just trying to help,” I mumble.
He goes back to washing, giving me more fodder for my spank bank. He even washes around the big silver skull ring he wears.
“Does that ring mean you killed someone?”
He glances at me, and I shrug. “Someone told me that about Fraternitas. You all get rings after you kill someone.”
“Yes.”
Another bolt of lust slices through me. “Just one?”
He shakes his head, and I have to grip the edge of the counter to keep from falling off.
“More than one? How many? Ten?” I feel like Delilah in Viking Thunder when the hero hits her with his sex lightning. Electrified to the point of weakness. “What’s your body count?”
He squints, looking like he can’t believe I’m getting excited.
“You’ve killed so many people.” I don’t realize I have my hand between my legs until he steps out of the shower and comes to stand before me. My head tips back to take in his wary expression. I’m so turned on, I’m making more bad decisions, but I can’t stop myself. “That’s so hot.”