Читать книгу Really Unusual Bad Boys - MaryJanice Davidson - Страница 2

She laughed at him. She hadn’t meant to, but it was an absurd comment. She was built like a fire hydrant—dense and practical, but hardly the curvy, willowy blond specimen so popular in American society. She had no waist, and her legs were too long, and her tits were only so-so—she’d been a B cup for years. Plus, she had multiple scars from years of street scuffles—knife wounds, bullet wounds, even a permanent rope burn a junkie, high on acid and Jack Daniel’s, had given her. Her hair was the nicest thing about her, and it was too curly, too wild, too out of control in humidity, and the color of a tar pit.

He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around. Even through her shirt, she could feel the heat from his hands. This was alarming, yet delightful. She was facing the sun—a small, white orb—and in the distance she could see a castle.

“My home is there. May I keep you?”