Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
When I’m done, I put one of my shirts on her. She doesn’t need panties on account of they wouldn’t stay on her anyway. I don’t want anything in the way of her pussy. I want her walking around my home knowing that I might slide into her wet channel any time. Want her living in breathless anticipation of feeling my cock shove deep into her again.
I roll up the sleeves, liking the fact that I have to. She’s so damn tiny. Can’t wait to see the day she grows big with my baby. That rounded curvy stomach is already perfection but when it has my baby inside? That’s gonna be even better.
She fights a yawn, so I lead her to my bedroom. It’s tiny, nothing really. Mainly just a bed and a dresser. But it’s clean and neat. Looking at it, I can’t help but wonder what it’ll look like when we’re sharing it. Will she leave her makeup scattered all over the top of the chest. Will her lacy underthings invade the drawers? Fuck, I hope so. Want to see all of her things mixed in with all of mine, to watch as we build a life together. A marriage. A home.
She gasps when she steps into the room and runs her hand over the oak sleigh bed. “Your work is so beautiful. Why aren’t you selling your furniture? I bet you’d make a lot of money.”
It warms me that she likes my work so much and believes in it. Don’t think I’ve ever had anyone believe in me all my life. But she does and that’s all I need. “Never considered it.”
“Well, you should.” She fights another yawn.
I pat the bed, and she eyes it. “I guess I could nap for a few minutes. You’ll wake me then we’ll go home, right?”
I nod along like that’s the plan. I doubt she’s going to be leaving here once I lay out the situation with Tristan. No way in hell is she going to risk her family’s farm. She might be willing to settle for less than what she deserves, but she won’t gamble on their legacy. But right now, she’s tired and crawls willingly into my bed.
I join her and pull her close. I like the feeling of her lying on my chest, her fingertips tracing all my tattoos. There are dozens of them. They tell the stories that I’ve never been able to put into words. All the things that made me sad and scared and mean.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” she says, her voice has that sleepy quality. “You’ll start a furniture store and I’ll set up a website for you and run the books and we’ll be business partners and make gazillions together.”
“Gazillions, huh? Sounds like more money than I’d ever be able to spend.” I used to think that money didn’t matter. But now that I want her and the boys, I know that’s not true. Because I plan to spoil the four of them every day. Five, if one of my swimmers makes it home tonight. The thought fills me with contentment.
She rubs my beard, her words are starting to slur like she’s fighting to stay awake. “What are you so happy about?”
“Got you in my arms. Can’t stop smiling,” I tell her, meaning it. I remember the sound of her calling my name. I want to hear it one more time from her lips, to know that she sees me. Not the man people say I am. “Say it again. What you said on the couch.”
But her slight snore tells me she’s already asleep.
“Sweet dreams, pearl.” I press a kiss to her forehead and settle back as her soft noises fill the air.
My own eyelids have just started to drift closed when I hear a racket on my front porch. Whoever it is isn’t going away and after a few long seconds, they finally shout, “Striker, it’s the Sheriff. Got some questions for you tonight.”
9
MAISY
I haven’t slept but a few minutes when I hear noises that jar me from sleep. For a few disorienting seconds, I’m not sure where I am or what’s happening. Then I remember.
I remember locking up at the barbershop. Remember Striker coming up behind me and tossing me in his truck. Borrowing me for the night. The thought has me smiling. But the smile quickly fades when I hear a deep voice say, “Striker, it’s the Sheriff. Got some questions for you tonight.”
He releases his hold on me, untangling our limbs and the sense of loss surprises me. Every time our bodies are together, it feels like it’s meant to be.
“Are you in trouble?” I ask with a tremor in my voice. He didn’t mention any legal troubles and while he’s had a rough time, I thought that was all in the past.