Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 46081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Christ, it’d been more than a decade since he’d dry-humped something but damn, if it wasn’t sexy as fuck.
She pulled her mouth away, panting. “God, Frost, I need—”
“What? Tell me?”
Her hands slid from his shoulders to his pecs as he’d hoped. She curled her nails into his skin and leaned into him. Hard.
His ribs fucking screamed in protest.
“Oh, fuck,” he rushed out as the pain stole his breath.
Rachel straightened. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry!” Sitting on his lap with blown pupils, flushed cheeks, and swollen lips, she was the picture of debauchery, and all they’d done was kiss. He couldn’t only imagine how sexy she’d look naked and freshly fucked on his bed.
Indescribable.
“How bad did I hurt you?” The glazed look in her eyes faded away, replaced by worry. “I’m sorry.” Her cheeks turned a deep shade of red. “I got a little, uh, overzealous.”
He chuckled. “I think you got the perfect amount of zealous, and I can’t wait until I’m not so fucking busted I can’t do anything about it.”
She worried her lower lip between her teeth.
He squeezed the outside of her thighs. “I’m all right, babe. Just not going to be able to perform any acrobatics tonight. Actually, forget acrobatics, I might be stuck sitting here for the next twenty-four hours.”
“Well, what if I sat with you?”
“I’d be a lucky bastard.”
She gave him a shy grin that had him chuckling, considering they had been attacking each other seconds ago, then climbed off his lap. As gently as a butterfly landing, she cuddled into his side. He propped his legs on the old beat-up coffee table he’d found on the side of the road and rested his head on the back of the couch. She felt great against him, tucked under his arm with her head resting on his chest, right above his heart.
Within minutes, his eyes grew heavy, and the gentle rise and fall of her chest against his side lulled him into a state of peaceful calm.
And that’s how he ended up falling asleep with a woman for the first time ever.
CHAPTER TEN
BEFORE HER EYES opened, Rachel could sense she wasn’t in her bed. She wasn’t in a bed at all. But she was warm and beyond comfortable.
Her lips curled as she shifted. The body against her didn’t move. Warm, solid, strong. Frost was…
Her eyes popped open as a gasp ripped from her chest.
Immediately her heart rate shot into the stratosphere, but not with fear or panic. Only surprise.
The sun peeked through the blinds behind her, casting a magical glow in the room.
Morning had come. She’d spent the entire night snuggled up to Frost on his couch.
As the events of the intense night replayed in her mind, one emotion ruled all others. Pride. While scared last night during the drama, not one ounce of that fear had been directed at the men in the MC. They were huge, capable of violence, and often gruff, but not a threat to her in any way. While freeing, the realization was also overwhelming.
So much of her life had been spent carefully avoiding anxiety-producing situations, planning her days around her fears, and missing out on opportunities due to insecurity. Perhaps if she stayed in Florida and had the support of the MC, she could walk through the door she’d only dreamed of.
Would they want her to stay?
Would she want to stay?
And what was happening between her and Frost?
So many questions bounced around in her head. She needed time to think. Time to process her emotions as well as consider her options with a clear, logical head. Hard to do with an enticing warm body tempting her to close her eyes and drift back off.
As gently as possible so as not to disturb Frost, she wiggled out from under his arm.
He shifted, causing her to hold her breath, but within seconds, he’d settled back into stillness.
Rachel padded across the floor and to her own apartment. After slipping on some flip-flops and grabbing a hoodie, she made her way outside. The morning air held a chill but couldn’t be called cold, at least not by her Minnesota standards. Being outside in December without multiple layers, a hat, gloves, and a scarf was a novel feeling and not at all unpleasant.
It was early enough she hoped no one would be awake and at the clubhouse. Last night, she’d spied a Nespresso machine in the clubhouse kitchen. It called to her, promising the sweet buzz of caffeine. Having some quiet time to drink coffee and think was exactly what she needed.
The door wasn’t locked, so she let herself in as Curly had instructed she was welcome to do at all times. No one called out or said hello, so if someone was there, they weren’t within view of the main door.
Rachel went straight to the kitchen. As she pushed through the door, she came to an abrupt stop at the sight of her brother standing in front of the coffee machine. He wore jeans, and a Handlers’ sweatshirt, but no cut. This was the first time she’d seen him without it, though he hadn’t let it go far. He’d folded it and set it on the counter.