Page 57 of Nevada

He chuckles. “Can’t stand me, huh? I’ve got an idea, just hear me out.”

“Jesus,” I mutter. I begin to shove my clothes into the bag they’ve spilled out of as he babbles on.

“We could be like a betrothal-ship.”

I blink at him incredulous. “You’re just making shit up now.”

“Nope. It exists. It’s where two people are monogamous but they’re not committed in the heavy sense. They’re together, but not together if you get my meanin’.”

“So let me get this straight. This word — that you just made up — is when two people are essentially betrothed?”

He winks. “You’re catchin’ on.”

It never crosses his mind that I may not be into it. That I could be friend-zoning him without actually doing it. Not that anyone in their right minds would friend-zone Nevada when he’s offering up oral as foreplay and lots of it.

“They don’t see anyone else, but they also don’t commit to each other?” I try not to laugh as I’m saying it.

He leans closer. “Yep.”

“What did your last one-night stand say to that proposal?”

His voice is sincere when he says, “I’ve never asked anyone that before, but if I’m bein’ honest, Estelle, if I even imagine you with another man, I’m afraid I’d have to legitimately rip his eyeballs from his head for even looking at you.”

All my life I told myself I never wanted a man like that. Who wanted to fight battles for me and essentially protect me. I’ve always looked out for myself and my sister, I’ve had to. Mom had a lot of health problems growing up, and the fact she was an alcoholic didn’t help much. I’ve never had a father figure before to compare anything to.

My lips part. “And his hands?” I find myself saying. “What would you do if he touched me?”

His face is deadly serious. “I’d cut them off and deliver them to you as a gift.”

I screw my nose up. “That’s pretty morbid.”

“You’re right. I hate blood, plus I’d probably have to borrow one of your sharper knives. So maybe I’ll just shoot them off instead.”

My heart thunders in my chest. I know he’s not being serious, but there’s something that turns me on about him defending my honor.

Without even getting to the next part of my question, he cups one side of my face and steps closer. “And his dick? I’d make sure he never got to use that for the rest of his life, Sweet Mama.”

I want him to tell me I’m his. Why do I crave that so badly?

I take a shallow breath, my skin pebbling at his touch. I don’t pull away.

“His tongue?” he breathes. “He won’t ever talk again if that tongue touched you.”

Holy shit. This guy is nuts, but he’s my kinda nuts.

I curse myself for my ragged breathing. “You’re unhinged.”

“For you, I am. Does that scare you?”

I shake my head. “I sleep with a gun.”

He grins, his lips brushing against mine. “I can’t stop thinkin’ about you.”

“Asher…” I don’t mean for his name to slip out like that. It just does.

He pulls me closer. “Say that again.”

“We… We can’t. Halo is coming over, she’ll be here any sec?—”

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