Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Annabelle walked toward me in a two-piece, pulling her hair up as she moved.
It was bright pink, with boyshort bottoms and a halter top that did unholy things with her breasts—or rather, it made me want to do unholy things with them.
She gave me a sinful smile and climbed down the ladder into the middle of the pool.
“Fuck, lass,” I said quietly so the kids wouldn’t hear me. “Ye look incredible.”
She wound her arms around my neck and kissed my lips. “Where’s the worth-my-while?”
I kissed her long and harder than was decent for the current crowd as I backed her against the edge of the pool. “If there weren’t minors around, your worth-your-while would be inside you right now.”
“MacDhuibh, get over here!” Logan ordered from the volleyball net we had strung near the end of the pool. “We need you!”
I sighed, noting that his girlfriend had the camera out. Jesus, that woman was always posting shit.
“You heard what they said,” Annabelle giggled. “They need you.”
“Well, I need ye.”
“Go win your game, and we’ll see about it.”
“Fine,” I pouted but kissed her again. “Besides, one more moment over here, and the rest of the pool would see your worth-your-while.”
She laughed and shoved me toward the guys. It was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard, and I found myself echoing it. Who would have thought a few months ago that the proper little lass with the rule book would be the sinful ass I’d be obsessed with?
For the first time in my life, I felt a sense of balance, and it was just as comforting as it was terrifying because I knew in this situation, she held all the power.
10
Annabelle
“You certainly know how to throw a party,” I said, sliding the last bit of Tupperware into Connell’s fridge. The last stragglers from the night had just gone home, and it was well past eleven.
“Aye,” Connell said as I rounded the corner to meet him in the living room, and I stopped suddenly at the sight of him.
The man laid back on his hunter green, tufted, armless chaise. Shirtless, a pair of black Reaper athletic pants hugging his hips, showing off those damned impossible v-lines he had. His eyes were half-closed, his hair damp from the shower he’d just taken, feet bare.
“Sweet mercy,” I said before I could stop myself, and his eyes widened a bit.
“You know what that southern accent does to me?” He smiled.
“Says the Scottish man who looks like that simply sitting.” I motioned to the perfection of his body, half-heartedly shaking my head.
He cocked an eyebrow at me. “You’re one to talk, love,” he said, his accent burring those r’s and skittering over my skin. “Walking around in that bikini earlier? I thought I might die from wanting you.”
Heat flared down the middle of me, at the desire in his eyes, the primal need in his tone.
I’d never felt more desirable or beautiful in my entire life.
This…this is what it felt like to be wanted on every possible level.
The realization of that absolute truth filled every crevice of my body with an aching hunger I couldn’t possibly survive.
I shaped my lips in what I hoped was close to Connell’s usual mischievous grin, and delight rippled through me as his eyes tracked my every move toward him. He reached for me when my knees hit the side of his chaise, but I tsked him.
He cocked a brow, the pulse spiking at his neck as I guided his arms up and above him, securing them on the lip of the chaise.
“Stay,” I demanded, then took my time exploring his skin with the pads of my fingers, then followed the trail with my lips, pausing to appreciate the ink decorating his muscled right bicep. I traced the whorls of ink with my tongue, then kissed my way up the light stubble on his jaw, and then moved lower. Over his hard chest and the ridges of his abdomen until I reached the bulge not at all hiding beneath his pants.
I raked my teeth over the fabric, wicked surprise fluttering through me when I realized he wore nothing beneath. I glanced up at him while I teased him with feather-light strokes. He kept his hands where I’d secured them, but his muscles flexed with the effort, and his hips jerked with each teasing touch I issued.
Hooking my fingers into the waistband, I slowly tugged them down and tossed them to the side, his considerable length springing free. My mouth watered, and my head spun with the consuming desire I had for this man. With the power coursing through my veins as I took a few steps back, peeling off my clothes so he could see every inch of me. I didn’t bother reaching for the light switch, didn’t even feel the impulse to. That alone would’ve been enough to tell me how much Connell meant to me, but the need pulsing in time with my heart confirmed it.