Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 128260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Carson frowned at me. “You could have been hurt,” he said.
I reached up and put my hand on his cheek, the slight stubble there rough against my skin. He closed his eyes for a couple beats, leaning in to it. “I didn’t get hurt. Just cold. And I lost my boot a couple hundred feet from your door, and I didn’t care. I just kept going because the sun was coming up and”—I let out a small sob moving my face closer to his—“I told you the sunrise would always remind me of you, and it has, all this time, all these years.”
“Did you wake up to see a few?” he asked teasingly.
I laughed softly. “Yeah. More than a few. Because I felt you with me each time I saw one.”
He closed his eyes again for a second and kissed my lips gently and then kissed each one of my eyelids and my nose. “Me too. You’ve come to me with the sunrise all these years too.”
I sniffled as I found his full lips and rubbed mine over his softly, not tasting, just feeling, soaking in his warmth, his presence.
“I never let go, but I still turned into a human popsicle,” I said softly.
Carson laughed, his eyes twinkling. “On the positive side, I think I’m cured. No more cinematic therapy needed,” he said.
We both smiled into each other’s eyes, warmth shining from his. He smoothed my hair back. “We have so much to catch up on,” he said quietly.
I nodded. We had time.
“But first, I’m taking you to the hot tub, and then to my bed,” he said.
“Yes,” I whispered, desire coursing through my suddenly very-warm veins. “Yes.”
He pulled me up from the couch and I took his hand as he led me to a door at the back of the cabin. Then he grabbed a couple large towels on a shelf behind him. “Take off your clothes and wrap this around you. It’ll be cold for a couple seconds but it’ll be worth it, I promise.”
He started removing his clothes and when he pulled his long-sleeved T-shirt over his head, I gulped down a lump that got stuck in my throat. He had been beautiful before, but now…I didn’t even know real-life men looked that way. He was all sleek, hard muscle, not an ounce of fat on him, covered in smooth, golden skin. He looked so large, standing before me, like some kind of god. “Carson, you’re…so…” I said, staring unabashedly at his naked chest and then moving my eyes down to his tented boxers. “We can skip the hot tub,” I suggested.
Carson chuckled. “No, you need it—not just for the warmth but for the relaxation. At least for a few minutes. You’ve been driving all night,” he said gently.
I noticed the small scar to the left of his heart, near his shoulder. It must be where the bullet exited from his body. I closed my eyes briefly as it hit me all at once that if things had been just a little different, I might not be here with him at all. I leaned in and kissed the scar and when I straightened, Carson’s eyes were warm and tender, but he didn’t say a word.
He reached for the hem of my sweater and started lifting it. I closed my eyes as it came over my head and then reached down and unbuttoned my jeans. My eyes tangled with Carson’s and heat flared in his, making the hazel color deeper.
My jeans were damp, so it took a minute to get them down far enough that I could step out of them. Then I stood back up as his gaze roamed my body, covered only in a black bra and underwear. “So damn beautiful,” he murmured.
He’d always made me feel beautiful, and so desired. Time had done nothing to change that.
I reached in front of my breasts and unhooked my bra. It fell open and Carson’s eyes drank me in as a small groan came up his throat.
He reached out and pulled the straps down my shoulders and let my bra fall to the ground. My nipples pebbled under his hot stare.
As his eyes traveled over me, he whispered, “You take my breath away.”
God, I was already turned on by a simple striptease. A less than elegant one considering the dampness of my clothing. And apparently, having very recently been a human popsicle did nothing to cool my blood. At least not under Carson’s slow perusal and the way he sucked at his bottom lip as his gaze roamed my body. Maybe it was also that it had been so long. And that this time, he was mine. We hadn’t discussed it specifically, but I knew it was true. He was mine and I was his. That knowledge alone was a heady aphrodisiac.