Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“I’m gonna need an invitation here, Sarah.”
“For what? Oh, that. I think the invitation is implied.”
“Say the words.” He kisses me again. “I want to hear them.”
I raise my legs high on his hips, opening myself up to him. “Inside me, Tanner. I need you inside me.”
His lips twitch again. His eyes are full of fire and lust, and finally, he rears back and fills me.
We both gasp.
I can’t look away from him as he pauses, seated fully.
I clench around him and watch as his eyes glaze over. Finally, he begins to move, and he links his fingers around mine, pins my hands above my head, and freaking moves.
His muscles bunch and stretch, and I can only watch in awe. His body is so different from before, when we were so impossibly young. He’s a man now.
And he’s absolutely glorious.
“Ah, Sarah,” he moans as he picks up the pace. I can’t help but push my hands against his ass, and I can feel the pinnacle coming, faster and faster, until I can’t hold back anymore, and I come apart.
Tanner growls against my ear and empties himself inside of me.
“I’m going to ruin this gorgeous fish.” It’s been thirty minutes since we rolled out of bed, and we’re standing in the kitchen, organizing the supplies for dinner. “You should cook, and I’ll sit this one out and watch. It’ll be a learning opportunity.”
“No way, you’re not getting out of this one, babe. You’ll be just fine.” With his arms full, he joins me at the kitchen island, sets out a cutting board and knife, and grins.
Tanner doesn’t have just one grin. No, he has several that he pulls out of his pocket for different occasions, and this one tells me that I’m about to hate whatever it is that he’s going to tell me to do.
“I’m not touching that thing.”
“Those are never words that a man wants to hear.”
I laugh, just as my phone rings.
“Hello?”
“Hey, what are you doing?” June asks.
“I’m making dinner with Tanner. What are you doing?”
Tanner makes kissy faces at me, and I roll my eyes and turn my back on him.
“I have something I want to show you and Luna tonight. Can I pick you up around nine?”
“Nine?” I pull the phone away from my ear and scowl at it. “Like, in the evening? That’s kind of late, isn’t it?”
“You’re such a grandma,” June replies, and I can hear her roll her eyes from here. “I have to work late, but I won’t have you out past midnight, I promise.”
“Yeah, I can go out at nine. I might be in my pajamas and bunny slippers, though.”
“Do you actually own bunny slippers?”
Tanner frowns my way, as if to ask what’s going on, and I just wave him off.
“Hell yes, I do. I ordered them a couple of weeks ago. Hey, is everything okay, Juniper?”
“Oh, yeah, no worries. I just want to show you something, that’s all. Don’t worry about me. I’ll see you at nine.”
“Okay. I’ll be ready.” I click off and turn to find Tanner mixing something in a bowl. “June wants to show Luna and me something later. I have no idea what that thing is, but apparently it’s happening at nine. Who goes out at that time of the night?”
“College students,” he replies and sets the bowl aside.
“I’m definitely not that. But now I’m invested, and I have to know what she wants to show us. Anyway, what did you just mix up?”
“A lemon and dill sauce for the salmon. Don’t worry, I left the fish preparation for you. I know you love that so much, and I wouldn’t want you to miss out on your favorite thing.”
“I’m not touching that dead fish.” I cringe and shiver with disgust.
“To be fair, it’s not a whole dead fish. It’s just the filet.”
“It’s dead, and it’s part of a fish. Ergo, I’m not touching it. You can’t make me.”
“Is it just fish that weird you out? What about chicken? Pork?”
“I don’t like to touch any of it. But I can do it if I wear gloves.”
“A-ha!” He points a finger in the air, then opens a drawer and pulls out some rubber gloves. “Here you go.”
“Damn it,” I mutter, but I put the gloves on, resigned to my fate. “Okay, what do we do?”
“Rub this sauce all over the fish. Pretend like you’re giving it a massage.”
“Not a chance.”
“You’re wearing gloves.”
“You want me to give that fish a massage.”
“It’ll like it. It’s a stressed out fish, and it needs a massage, Sarah.” He laughs and demonstrates, sans gloves, how to do it. “See? Totally fine here.”
“You can never touch me again.”
He raises an eyebrow. “I’ll wash my hands. Twice, if it makes you feel better.”
“I don’t think that’s gonna work for me. You touched a fish with your bare freaking hands.”