Claim Her by Lena Little EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Lena Little
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
ALEC
“Oh, fuck me. Of course. Go ahead and roll wherever you want.
How about hiding under that planter? I swear to God, this day
can’t get any worse. No, God. No universe. That is not a
challenge. I take that back. I take all of that back.”
The woman in blue scrubs bends down to pick up the apples, oranges, and
cans that tumbled down from her overflowing grocery bag. She mumbles
while she shoves the fruit one by one into her paper bag, and I have to look
around to check if she’s talking to anyone.
Nope. She’s talking to herself.
Her ass is in the air and at least four steps in front of me. She has nice round
globes, of course, but I don’t let my gaze linger. She’s clearly in distress,
and the last thing I need is for her to take out her frustration on me.
I’ve had a long day myself, so this I clearly understand.
There’s just one problem.
My apartment building has a small entrance, and for some reason, my
pinchpenny landlord has added huge plant boxes on either side of the glass
doors. Thus, the only way to get into the lobby is to side-step the woman,
who’s blocking my way with her ass. There’s no point helping her because
she’s done stuffing the fruits.
She continues to talk to herself, which makes me wonder if she’s actually
here mentally.
Oh, well. Whatever.
Her business, not mine.
Since she seems unaware of her surroundings and me, I clear my throat to
get her attention. Her head swivels to me, and the moment her eyes meet
mine, my heart starts giving an erratic beat, which is weird. My legs forget
how to move, and some oddly intense feeling comes to me in a blinding
flash.
What the hell?
My hand tightens on my phone, so tight I think it’s gonna crack. It’s like my
body tenses with just one look from her. What’s going on right now?
The woman, whose raven black hair is tied in a messy bun, grabs something
from the back of her head and pulls it, leaving her long wavy hair cascading
down her shoulders and back, framing her round face beautifully. The
simple motion shouldn’t send me reeling, but it does.
It fucking does.
From out of nowhere, I see visions of her lying on my bed, her glorious hair
fanning on my pillows.
Jesus Christ. I need to get out of here.
Her hazel eyes are drawn to the right side of my face—typical when I’m
meeting someone for the first time—at the scar running from my forehead
down to my jaw and neck and disappearing under my shirt. I try to resist the
urge to cover it up with my hair and collar, but she quickly realizes what
she’s doing and shakes her head.
“Hi. I’m Zara, your new neighbor.” She extends a small hand full of streaks
and smudges of red and blue ballpoint pen ink. Her smile is genuine, and it
reaches her eyes.
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