Page 3 of Fake Dating an Orc Cowboy

I’ve got a date, so I’ll need my own room,I texted on the spur of the moment.

Now why had I said that? I wasn’t dating anyone and none of my guy friends were single.

What, what, what?! You’re seeing someone?my sister texted.Share!I could almost see her pout.I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were dating a new guy.

Damn, why had I told her that? Now I was in a bind.

The orc cowboy extended his hand. “I’m Ostor Bronish.” His lightly accented voice tickled across my bones. “I owe you a debt of gratitude for introducing me tofriesand vegetable blood, which I know is not blood, though it looks as if it is.”

“I’m Rosey Trent.” I placed my hand in his, admiring how small I was compared to this big, brawny cowboy. At five-seven, I’d never felt petite.

Sparks traveled up my arm, and I blinked at my skin, expecting it to be glowing or something.

Ostor gave me a stunned look before he slid off the stool and slammed onto his knees beside me. He flipped my hand over and proceeded to lick up the center of my palm and onto my wrist that burned as if I’d gotten stung by a bee.

He took my phone from my other hand and laid it on the counter, and then repeated the gesture, licking from my second palm to my wrist, sending tingles through my body that dove down to light up parts between my legs that hadn’t seen action in so long, I couldn’t remember when.

Looking up at me, his crooked smile grew even bigger.

My heart tumbled off a cliff, soaring down the other side.

Talk about a weird and unsettling encounter. I should nudge him away. Like, who licks a stranger’s hands? Sure, it had felt good, but it was a very odd way of introducing yourself to a woman.

Besides, um, bee sting? Although, his lick had made the pain fade to nothing.

Despite how odd this situation was and the fact that I’d never been a one-night stand kind of girl, I was seriously reconsidering changing that policy with this orc.

“Are you single, Ostor?” I croaked, unsure what was happening between us, but determined to find out. They said when you met “the one,” you knew. Was that what this feeling was all about?

His brow scrunched together. “I am the only one of me.”

“I meant are you married or with someone?”

“Oh, no. I am not.” His low husky voice could’ve lit my panties aflame.

“You wouldn’t happen to be free next Thursday through Sunday, would you?” I asked.

“I am. The sorhox cattle can wait.”

Sorhoxcattle?

A frown scrunched his thick brow ridge, and his eyes darkened, a challenging thing since they were nearly as black as his thick hair dusting his broad shoulders. He lumbered to his feet, looming over me while shooting glares at everyone aroundus. Finally, his eyes locked on me again. “Tell me what you need, tiny one, and it’s yours.”

Oh, how my imagination went wild at that statement.

I held up my phone. “Let me send a quick text, and then you and I need to talk.”

He nodded, his face solemn. “I await your command, tiny one.”

Oh-la-la.

I texted my sister.My date’s name is Ostor.

Chapter 2

Ostor

Who would’ve thought I’d meet my fated mate on my second day on the Earth’s surface? One touch, and symbols had appeared on our wrists, proving she was mine.

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