Page 20 of Unravel Me

In and out. Fix it up, sell it, get on with my life.

“I asked you a question first, fucker. Now who are you and how did you get in here?” I back further into the main living space where there’s more light.

“Reid. I live next door. I check on things around here from time to time.”

“Suuuure you do. Right. And I’m Megan Fox. Who asked you to do that?”

“My parents. They knew the owner, Brian Turner. My dad handled his estate after he passed away. Now who are you? This place has been empty for well over a year.” His voice may be deep, but you can’t miss the softness in it.

Reid steps into the large living room and paces closer to me. Okay, so I was right about the beast thing. He has to be well over six feet and he’s packing some serious Khal Drogo muscles. Fucking. Hell. How?

His tan skin is covered in tattoos from his fingers and up both arms, disappearing under the pushed-up sleeves of a hoodie. It’s formfitting for a sweatshirt and leaves little to the imagination. He’s in amazing shape and I can’t help my mouth from falling open slightly while I gape at him.

Fucking hell is right. Where do men like him come from? They’re made in a lab, aren’t they? Surely they don’t come outlooking like this perfect Greek god. I can’t imagine what his parents look like. Lawyer my ass. They have to be models. Or Olympus’ twelve descendants at a minimum.

I grasp my hands in front of my stomach and twist them together.

Focus, Ivy.

“Oh. Uh. Okay. That makes some sense. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here. You scared the shit out of me,” I say, more than a little exasperated, unsure whether it’s from the fright of my life or the Adonis in my space.

“Sorry ’bout that. I wasn’t expecting you either. Total coincidence to be here at the same time. And as much as I was enjoying listening to you convince yourself that your, what did you call it? Your ‘pink vibrating best friend?’ was better than a man, I couldn’t stay here all day . . .” He pauses and slowly peruses my body from bottom to top before meeting my eyes again. “Unless you want me to convince you that you’re wrong?” he says with a smirk. “You still haven’t told me whoyouare.”

A nervous laugh escapes me. Is he seriously hitting on me right now? I’m suddenly self-conscious of my holey black leggings and baggy, oversized sweatshirt. I absentmindedly rub my hand through my hair and tuck it behind my ear. He has to be fucking with me. This kind of shit only happens to Zoe.

“Shit! Zoe!” Scurrying to pick up my phone, I’m greeted with a rainbow of expletives from my best friend’s colorful vocabulary.

“Zo, I’m fine. It’s okay. A neighbor is here and I was obviously expecting the house to be humanless.” I punctuate the last word and toss a glare at him.

“Are you sure? Should I call the police? Are you okay? You just scared the shit out of me, Ivy!”

“Breathe, psycho. I think I’m fine. I’ll call you tonight, I promise.” Hanging up the phone on my best friend, I return tofind my muscular guest leaning up against the wall with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Okay, Drogo. Here’s how this is going to go. I’m 1 and 0 for making men drop to the floor due to my knee to their balls this month and I’d happily make it 2 for 0. So, I’m going to ignore your witty remarks about being able to take over the job of my vibrator, not gonna happen. If you’re done here, I’m assuming you remember where the door is?” I make a shoo motion at him.

“Drogo, huh?”

My mouth drops open.

“That’s what you took from what I just said?” Fucking men.

He sets his eyes on me and takes a few steps forward as I match them to step back. We pace until I’m backed right against the wall. Fucking genius, Ivy. Because that’s exactly what you want to do when alone with a stranger. Become the victim!

Reid stops with us toe-to-toe and places a hand next to my head, semi-caging me in.

Holy hell.

His muscles flex next to me and I can’t help but look at the tattoos that run along his veiny forearm.

“How ’bout we start over, huh, sweetheart? Who are you?” he says in a husky whisper as he brushes some rogue hair out of my face and tucks it behind my ear. He’s standing so close that I can smell the mint gum he’s chewing, coupled with some clean and masculine goodness.

I take a steadying breath and chance looking up at this massive man crowding my space. His deep-green eyes meeting mine hitches my attempt at steady breathing. My god he is gorgeous. His long, dark chocolate-brown hair is secured in a low ponytail, pieces have come loose and fall into his face as he peers down at me. My pussy responds in kind by throbbing. I can feel the wetness pooling between my legs and I feel unsteady. Okay, so maybe it’s been a little too long since I’ve felt a man, even longersince I’ve been with one who knows what he’s doing. I hate to stereotype people, but damn does this man look like he knows exactly how to make a woman feel good.

“Alright, smooth talker.” I chuckle as I make mistake number three thousand in the last five minutes; placing my hands flat open on his chest in an attempt to push him away. I’m met with such solid male perfection that I don’t actually push him away at all. Instead, my traitorous bitch of a body decides that’s its cue to release an appreciative moan that unfortunately doesn’t go unnoticed by the beast crowding my personal space. I immediately retreat and place my hands behind me, dropping my gaze from his.

“Fuck. Tell me what I have to do to pull more sounds like that out of you,” he whispers as he places his fingers under my chin and forces my face to meet his again. My heart is about to beat out of my fucking chest. Is this happening right now? This can’t be seriously happening.

“Do we have to talk so close to each other?” I ask. His fingers are still lifting my chin, his thumb aimlessly rubbing back and forth.

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