Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 106(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 106(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
I want to say more, but I’m nervous even just sitting here in front of him. I don’t know what to say to a man like this. So tall, so strong, so commanding. So I choose to just eat instead. After the few minutes it takes for him to finish his meal, he stands and goes to the kitchen.
“I have a few more things I need you to do around the house today for me,” he says simply, as though my compliance is not even in question. As though I’ve suddenly become his housekeeper. “Sweep up, clean the kitchen, clean up the bedroom, and tidy up the living room.”
“Yes, sir,” I reply, teasing again as I dip my head down and flutter my eyelids at him. “But of course, sir.”
I think I see a hint of a smile come across his face before he steps past me and gets into his boots and poncho. It’s still raining quite heavily yet he’s apparently headed back out into the pour to chop more wood.
“Once this storm passes, we’ll work on getting you back to your car,” he says. “Until then…”
He opens the door and steps out into the weather like it’s nothing.
What a man…
That’s the only thought that I can process as I watch him go. I stand there like an idiot for what must be almost an entire minute. And then I remember my duties.
First, I clean up the dishes. Then I get to work on the kitchen. I don’t stop until everything is spotless. I find the broom in the cupboard and sweep up the entire first floor, then tidy up the living room like he said. Then it’s upstairs to straighten up the bedroom.
And it’s at some point during all this, I think while I’m tucking the blankets in at the foot of the mattress, that I realize I’m actually enjoying what I’m doing. There’s no boss shouting at me to hurry up, no jerk brokers around to haze me, no stock prices to stress out over.
I’m spending the day like one of those “trad-wife” girls I’ve seen popping up on the Internet lately, and I’m actually having a good time.
And what’s more, I can’t wait for Tyson to get back so I can see him react to what I’ve done. Hopefully, so he can praise me for it. My heart is actually fluttering inside my chest at the thought.
The day goes by quite quickly, and I realize it’s the middle of the afternoon before I know it and Tyson still hasn’t come in. I check the fridge and find some turkey cold cuts and make us both sandwiches. I plate them with some chips from the cupboards, pour a couple of glasses of water, open the front door and call to him.
“Hey, you! Lunch is ready!”
Tyson swings his axe and splits another log in half like it was nothing, then turns around to face me. His upper half rises and falls as he gulps deep breaths of air. I wave to him, beckoning him inside. He looks at me for a second, then strikes the axe into the large cutting block and leaves it there before he walks over to the house.
I remember when I first made analyst at Goldman Sachs, I had to pitch a stock buy to Jerry, and I knew that bringing it to him as my own idea was super risky. But I did it anyway. I managed to convince him, and we made a lot of money on the trade, and that feeling of elation I felt then is nothing compared to how I feel now just wanting to give Tyson the sandwich I’ve made for him so I can see how he reacts. I don’t even know how to process that.
“Don’t you know when to quit?” I joke with him as he comes inside. This time I reach out and help him out of his poncho and hang it up for him. “You’ll pass out with that axe in your hand. Come on, I made us some sandwiches.”
This time, I’m sure I see him smile as he takes off his boots and walks over to the table with me. We both sit down and dig in. He nods with approval at the first bite, and my entire insides light up like a Christmas tree.
He likes it. Thank God.
“It may not be ‘cooking,’” he says. “But it’s good. Thank you.”
“Of course.” I smile. “And I’ll work on my custom meatballs next.”
Tyson nearly finishes his sandwich before I’ve even eaten half of mine. But I guess that’s how it goes when you’re a massive man more than twice my size and have been working hard all day.
His build is hypnotic. He’s massive, like a primal brute, giving nothing away. But there’s also something more to him. I can tell. He’s like a mystery wrapped in pure sex appeal, and I’ve never felt so drawn to anybody before.