Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 147967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 740(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 740(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
“Hmm. He doesn’t say much, no.”
“He didn’t say anything!”
“You didn’t really talk to me when you first met me,” he told you. “You still don’t when you’re zombie Maya.”
She wasn’t zombie Maya! Although that was probably better than the truth. She didn’t want to tell him that she couldn’t talk to him sometimes because he was so freaking hot that he fried her brain.
“I talk. More than Captain. He grunts!”
“Yeah, he’s a grunter. I’m not sure I’ve actually heard him talk if I’m honest, but I haven’t known him long. Ink only hired him a few months ago and I don’t usually work for Callahan Security.”
“You don’t?”
“No. I’m more . . . freelance. I met Ink years ago when I was in the French Special Forces. He asked me to come help him out with this job.”
French Special Forces? Wow.
“Oh. Freelance. I get that. Do you live here, though?” See? She could totally talk more than Captain.
Pfft. She wasn’t a grunter.
“No. I don’t really live anywhere.”
Wow. That sounded really sad.
“Captain is good at his job. And he will keep an eye on your babies while we’re not there. Now, eat your breakfast.”
Crap. It seemed she couldn’t put it off any longer. Grabbing the small spoon, she took a tentative bite.
Huh. It wasn’t as bad as she’d expected. She took another bite.
“This isn’t that bad,” she told him.
“Thanks,” he said dryly.
Oops.
Shoot.
Now she had insulted him.
Way to go, Maya.
“I . . . um . . . it’s just . . . um . . . I don’t usually . . . um . . .”
“Maya,” he said firmly.
“Yes?”
“It’s all right. You don’t have to like it.”
“But I do. I’m just not usually . . . adventurous with my . . . um . . . food.” That was putting it mildly since she mostly ate the same thing day after day.
“Maybe I can help you with that. Now, according to your schedule, you’ve got four classes?”
“Yep.”
“Good. We also need to talk about the rules and the rest of your schedule.”
Oh. Awesome.
That sounded like so much fun.
“What will you do while I’m taking my class?” she asked.
“Do? I’m going to watch.”
She started to choke on the piece of strawberry she’d put in her mouth.
He immediately pulled over and started patting her back. “Spit it out, Maya. Spit. It. Out.”
The strawberry came flying out of her mouth. But it didn’t land in the hand he was holding under her mouth. Nope, it flew through the air and landed with a splat against the windshield. Then it slid down the windshield, leaving a film behind it.
Awesome.
That was just freaking awesome.
“Are you all right? Have a drink of water.” He leaned over to grab her water bottle which was on the floor at her feet. That put his face way too close to her lady bits.
And yes, she called them lady bits. It felt strange calling them anything else. She’d once tried to give them a name, but Gertrude just hadn’t sounded right.
Don’t react.
Do not react.
He’s just trying to help you. Even if his shoulder did rub against your breast and your nipple hardened.
Oh heck!
She was wearing a sports bra and a thin long-sleeved T-shirt. It was kind of obvious that her nipple had gone all hard.
“Here you are. Sip.” He sat back up and held the straw part of the bottle to her mouth. She wrapped her lips around it and sucked.
Was it her imagination or did his eyes darken? Was he aroused? Was that why he was just sitting there, staring at her?
Maybe he felt the same way she did . . . maybe he couldn’t resist this pull between them.
“Here, take the drink bottle.”
Or maybe he’d just been waiting for her to take the drink bottle from him and she’d been staring at him like a zombie.
Huh, perhaps she really was zombie Maya.
Awesome.
“Are you feeling better now?” he asked.
She nodded as she lowered the drink bottle. She’d stopped drinking a while ago, but hadn’t wanted to move the bottle away since she didn’t want to talk to him.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
Another nod. She stared at the piece of strawberry. She wanted to grab it and tuck it away, but she couldn’t seem to move.
Had he seen her nipple?
Embarrassment flooded her. Had he sensed her arousal?
Dear God. This was terrible. It was a disaster. It was nipplegate.
Or maybe strawberrygate was more accurate.
“Like that, huh?” he murmured as he pulled into a parking spot by her work. How had he known where she worked? If she could actually talk, she’d ask him.
He turned to her, making her tense more. What did he mean, like that?
“Don’t stress, Maya. Everything is going to be okay.”
Those words shouldn’t have made a difference to her stress levels. Telling someone not to stress was ridiculous. It never worked . . . only she felt her breathing grow easier, her chest become less restricted.