Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“Are you leaving?” I inch my hand out of my panties. Maybe he didn’t really notice. Maybe he thinks I had an itch.
Well, I do have an itch of sorts.
“Yes, I must go. I’m sorry.” He kneels in front of me and drags my panties down my legs.
“What are you doing?”
He doesn’t look at me.
“C-Colten!” I suck in a harsh breath when his face plants between my legs. I fall back onto one elbow while my other hand grips his hair.
“I’m saying goodbye,” he mumbles.
“Col … just …” My head spins with each slurred word that fights past my lips. “God … yesss …” Just before I orgasm, I think I might lose consciousness. My knees squeeze inward, trapping his head when my pelvis jerks.
“I have to go,” he says, wedging his head out from between my legs. I completely collapse back onto the bed.
On a satisfied sigh, I lift back onto my elbows and watch him get dressed. “I feel bad.”
“About what?” he murmurs, zipping his jeans before tugging on his shirt.
“I’m rather satisfied at the moment, and you’re leaving, well … not satisfied. So I feel a little bad for you.”
He shoves his feet into his sneakers and takes several long strides to get back to me.
I sit up, and he cups the back of my head and kisses me. Pulling back an inch, a half grin tugs at his lips, and he whispers, “I highly fucking doubt it.”
I don’t want to grin. I’m not sure I’m ready for him to fully know how ridiculously happy I am, but I can’t help it.
“I’ll see you later.” He kisses my forehead before heading toward the front door.
He’s gruff.
He’s sexy as hell.
He’s intimate and tender.
And I think he’s finally … mine.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
By nine o’clock, I jump onto my stationary bike and sweat until close to ten. Then I shower for bed and give up on seeing Colten again tonight or even getting a text or phone call.
I arrive at work on Monday by seven.
Dr. Cornwell eyes me over his glasses. “Am I distracting you with work?”
“I have court this afternoon, and I’m meeting with a family in an hour. It wasn’t an unusually slow night. You and Glasby can handle two cases. If it were me, I’d split it and each take one.”
He rolls his eyes at me just as Glasby strolls into the conference room.
“What?” Glasby says.
“Nothing. Just a big day for you and Cornwell. Good luck.” I sip my coffee to hide my smirk while I head to my office.
As I review my notes in preparation to meet with the Harvey family about their daughter who committed suicide by running her car into a train, I keep a close eye on my phone. This is ridiculous.
I should call him or text him. I’m a grown woman. My days of stalking Colten Mosley are over. Yet I can’t help myself. I’m on a physical high.
It’s the sex.
I know what I’ve been missing for seventeen years, and now I’m pissed off at every woman who has had Colten’s hands, mouth, or any other body part on them.
Eventually, I’ll come down from the sex high and have to deal with the emotional reality that I’m still mad at him. I still have so many questions that he needs to answer.
By the time I get to court, I’m ready to crush my phone like it’s my phone’s fault that Colten has been ghosting me. I give in. I hate it, but I do it anyway.
Josie: Hi.
Yep. That’s it. One word. Like “tag, you’re it.” A knock on his door. A nudge to see if he’s paying attention.
I have to relinquish my phone to get through security at the courthouse. As I make my way to the courtroom, Dylan Paine, the most cutthroat attorney in town, calls my name. When I glance over at her, I see him, Mr. “He Hasn’t Responded To My Text” Mosley.
“I’ve called your office at least a hundred times. I need the Kaylee Robinson report,” Dylan says like she thinks I’m in charge of getting a report to her that I didn’t write for an autopsy I didn’t perform. She’s always given me the impression she doesn’t believe I’m a real doctor or part of the justice system.
I ignore her for obvious reasons.
“Oh …” She leans into Colten and playfully nudges his arm. “Have you met Detective Mosley? Surely, you’ve run into each other by now.”
Colten’s grin grows in tiny increments. “We’re actually old friends.”
Friends. Is that what we are now?
“Oh? That’s crazy. Small world. Aren’t you originally from Iowa, Josephine?” She’s never called me Dr. Watts, except when questioning me on the stand, and even then, she says it like it leaves a bad taste in her mouth.
“I am. So is Colten.”
Dylan lifts her eyebrows. “Colten, huh?”
Yes, Dylan … I’m on a first name basis with the detective because I orgasmed in his mouth yesterday, and I showed him my breasts before I even really had anything to show him.