Page 3 of Big Forbidden Blacksmith

It’s a wonder she hasn’t noticed how much I want her. Every second I passed touching her skin was a moment I spent fighting the instinct to claim her as mine. To haul her into the bed of my truck, lift her little dress up, and claim her as my own …

She’s an angel. She’s so ethereal I’m half convinced she might be a real angel. A gift from the heavens for an undeserving man such as myself.

The contrast of her long dark hair against her porcelain skin is unreal. Her soft, delicate features make her seem almost like a doll. It was strange, though … When she looked at my scarred face with her curious, pale blue didn’t seem filled with fear or disgust. In fact, she made me feel desirable for the first time in the longest time.

Her gaze, open and unashamed, makes me want to secret her away and protect her from the world.

Protect her from a beast like me.

It’s fucking with my head just how much I want her. I want her body underneath mine even though a girl like her would never want a man like me. I want her to keep looking at me like I’m her knight in shining armor, come to save her.

But I’m not a knight. I’m closer to the beast lurking in the woods that she needs saving from. A starved man like myself is no good for her. She shouldn’t trust me so easily.

I don’t even know her name.

I shake my head, prying open the trunk of her car to find a suitcase and a large box labeled “fragile” with red tape. I consider grabbing her bag and leaving the box, but I’m afraid that whatever’s in this box might get ruined when the car gets towed. Against my better judgment, I tuck it under my arm and carry it back to my truck along with her suitcase.

When I open the door to the back seat of my truck, curious blue eyes are staring at me, wide with fascination as I lay her belongings down at the foot of the back seat.

“I’m sorry I made you carry them all,” she says, her cheeks flushing prettily when I meet her stare.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” I say. After I have everything secured, I walk back around and climb into the driver’s seat.

The girl’s scent has filled the truck already in the few moments I’ve been gone. It makes my erection throb hard against the fly of my pants. I ignore the ache and turn the key in the ignition. A part of me thinks that if I ignore it, it’ll go away, but I know that’s wishful thinking. I can only hope my little angel doesn’t let her eyes stray southward to see it, to see just how much she affects me. I doubt she’ll want to be anywhere near me if she sees the evidence of my want.

“My name is Larissa, but no one really calls me that. Just call me Lara,” she says, breaking into my thoughts.

“Knox,” I say as I start to drive off down the gravel road.

“Knox,” she hums. “It suits you.”

I can’t help raising a brow at that. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Knox sounds like such a strong name. I don’t know, I picture a guy with a name like that deep in the forest chopping wood or something.”

“I do like to chop wood in the forest, so there’s that.”

“The name also strikes me as one for a sweet and honest guy.”

“You can ask me anything you like,” I say as my lips twitch, fighting a laugh. Lara is more talkative than I expected, her face open and kind. I like that. Her expression tells me everything without her needing to, but every time she smiles or bites her lip, my entire body pulses with need. “I promise to be honest with my answers,” I add.

“Are you a serial killer?”

“That might have been a question to askbeforeyou got in the truck, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, well, it was either get in a vehicle with you or brave the cold night on an unfamiliar road where a wild animal could stop by and maul me to bits.”

“I’m flattered.”

“Good, you should be,” she laughs. “You haven’t answered my question yet.”

“No, Lara, I am not a serial killer,” I chuckle deeply.

“Axe murderer?”

“Are they not the same thing?”

She gives me an adorably incredulous look. “No, they aren’t!”

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