Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Her perky nipples poke through the material, making me want to stroke them softly, then pull her top down and start sucking.
“I know it’s silly. The big bad spider scared me,” she laughs shakily. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know,” she murmurs. “Like … I don’t know.”
Yet part of me wonders if she does know. Maybe she can sense the hunger in me. Or perhaps I’m giving her more credit, assuming she knows more about how this works. Has she ever even been with a man? She’s eighteen.
“Let’s see this beast, then,” I say, walking toward the bedroom.
She follows me, gesturing across the large, simple room to the tiny spider clinging to its web right next to her bed, stretching from the bedframe to the side table.
When I move forward, raising my hand as I get ready to deal with the problem, Ania says, “No, don’t do that!”
I turn, narrowing my eyes. Is she serious? From the look in her eyes—the soft love there, the genuine concern—I can see that she is. A sense of pity almost touches me, but I don’t let it take hold. It’s not pity she deserves. It’s respect because I could never imagine caring that much. I could never imagine having that much softness.
Usually, I despise it, but it’s somehow appealing in Ania.
“You want me to save it?” I ask.
She narrows her eyes at me. “Don’t say that like it makes me sad.”
I smirk. “I don’t think you’re sad. I think you’re cute.”
“Oh, cute,” she says, and I can tell she can’t think of anything else to say. The compliment has turned her into Miss Shy, making her even cuter. Looking around the room, I grab a piece of paper from the desk, curl it into a cone, and walk slowly over to the spider. Leaning down, I slowly scoop it into the cone, adjusting my angle until it’s resting at the bottom, trying to climb back up.
“Now where, madam?” I say.
She laughs. “Uh, I don’t know. Where do spiders live?”
“Bedrooms, apparently.”
“Maybe take him with you?”
“So it’s a him now? Sure, he’ll be my buddy for the night.”
“Maybe come back to make sure there aren’t anymore.”
She says this last part quickly when my back’s turned. It’s like she has to get it out quickly. A smile touches my lips as I leave the room, taking the spider out. My instinct is still to kill it. Maybe I’m too savage. I hate the idea of lying to Ania, even about something this small, so I let the fella go into my room.
When I return to Ania, she has one hand in her hair, twisting a strand around and around her finger. She couldn’t look more attractive if she tried, and something tells me she’s not trying.
“You needed me?” I ask, trying not to look at her perky, perfect nipples poking through her shirt.
“What do you think I should say tomorrow?”
“To your brothers?” She bites her lip, nodding. My balls are aching so damn hard. “You should tell them how you feel.”
“Well, what’s that?”
I laugh but then quickly stop when I realize she’s serious. She’s so sweet and innocent. “You’re asking me how you feel?”
“I’m just asking … in general. I thought I wanted to run, but then—” She stops herself, looking at me in a way that makes me think she was about to say me. She stayed because of me. Then she says, “I had the most magical time with Molly … Mom.”
“Maybe there’s a peaceful way out of this,” I murmur.
“I thought my brothers were evil?” she says bitterly.
“If you tell them how you feel, and they agree to let you stay with your mom, maybe I was wrong.”
“Just like that? They’ve gone from devils to angels?”
“Let’s not go too far,” I growl.
“They won’t let me do anything,” she says. “If I explain the situation to them, they’ll understand.”
“Then we should have nothing to worry about.”
I have to turn away again. It’s too tempting staring at her with that enticing body, with her slender hipbones emphasizing her natural shape. It’s too easy to imagine sliding my hand down toward her tight—
“Where are you going?” she says.
“Where else? Bed.”
“Oh.”
Fuck. That gets me to turn around again. The oh is filled with too much potential, too much possible heat. She stands in her adorably awkward way.
“Oh?” I say. “Where else would I be doing?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“Is this sleepwalking talk again?” I ask, smirking, trying to make a joke of it.
But this feisty ballerina is in no mood to joke. “I already told you I’m awake.”
“No, I meant … when you were sleepwalking, you wanted things, Ania. Maybe you don’t want me to go because you want those same things?” A husky note comes into my voice. I can’t help it.