Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
“Sarah,” he murmurs, his voice a warning and a promise all at once.
“Yes?” I whisper, my hand lingering against his temple.
His hand covers mine, rough and warm, pulling it away from his face but not letting go. “Don’t look at me like that unless you mean it.”
The thunder crashes again, but it’s nothing compared to the storm brewing between us. I open my mouth to respond, but before I can, Bear shifts, breaking the spell. He climbs onto Grady’s lap, his sheer size forcing Grady to scoot closer to me.
“Your emotional support animal is a little pushy,” I tease, my voice shaky but light.
Grady chuckles, the sound low and rough. “Takes after me, I guess.”
I laugh, the tension easing just enough for me to breathe again. But as the storm rages outside and we’re crammed together on this couch, I can’t help but think about how right this feels. About how, for the first time in a long time, I don’t want the moment to end.
Bear lets out a contented sigh, his massive head resting on Grady’s thigh. I lean back, my shoulder brushing against Grady’s, and close my eyes.
“Grady,” I say softly.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for…everything.”
His hand finds mine again, squeezing gently. “You don’t have to thank me, sweet girl. Taking care of you—it makes me feel…” He trails off, his voice thick with emotion.
“Complete?” I finish for him, my voice just as unsteady.
He doesn’t respond, but his grip on my hand tightens, and I know he feels it too. This connection, this pull between us—it’s undeniable, and it’s only growing stronger.
We sit like that for what feels like hours, the storm outside a backdrop to the quiet storm brewing between us. And as the candles flicker and the fire crackles, I know one thing for certain: I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.
Chapter Seven
Grady
The sound of a soft clatter pulls me from sleep, my senses immediately on high alert. My hand instinctively reaches for the baseball bat I keep propped against the nightstand. Living alone as long as I have, the smallest sound is enough to set my instincts ablaze.
I climb out of bed, stark naked, the chill of the cabin biting against my skin as I grip the bat and tread softly toward the kitchen. The faint glow of moonlight streams through the window, casting silver patterns across the hardwood floor.
When I round the corner, the sight before me stops me dead in my tracks. Sarah, wearing nothing but one of my flannel shirts, stands at the counter, her hair a wild golden halo around her head as she stirs something in a mixing bowl. The shirt is barely long enough to skim her thighs, revealing just enough to send my blood rushing south.
She looks up, startled, her wide eyes darting to the bat in my hand. "Grady, what—oh my—” her round eyes flick down my naked form, my cock hanging at half-mast against my thigh as I face her, “you’re…you’re not wearing clothes.” She stammers and then her eyes flick to the bat in my hand, “Were you planning to bash me with that?"
I lower the bat, running a hand through my hair. "Thought you were an intruder. Not used to having someone else in the house."
Her lips twitch, and she gestures to the bowl. "An intruder who bakes brownies in the middle of the night?"
"Could be a clever ploy," I deadpan, stepping closer. "What’re you doing up?"
"Couldn’t sleep," she says, her eyes hovering anywhere but on my half-hard dick. "Baking, uhm…usually helps me relax."
I set the bat against the wall and cross my arms, leaning against the counter. My eyes rake over her, the oversized flannel swallowing her frame in the most tantalizing way. "And you didn’t think to wake me up and invite me to the party?"
Her cheeks flush, but she holds my gaze. "You seemed… busy sleeping."
I chuckle, low and rough. "Not anymore."
“Do you want to put on clothes…or…?
“No…it’s my house and I like being naked,” I state.
“Oh—”
“Does that bother you?” I smirk, enjoying the way being in the presence of my naked cock makes her squirm.
“No!” She spits as her attention flickers back to the bowl, the flush on her cheeks deepening as she stirs. “Do you…” she seems to struggle for words, “want some brownie batter?" she finally asks, her voice light but laced with something teasing.
I step closer, close enough to see the way her pulse quickens at the base of her throat. "Depends. You making these for me?"
"Maybe," she quips, not missing a beat.
"Then I’ll take a taste," I say, reaching for the spoon in her hand. But instead of letting me have it, she dips her finger into the batter and holds it up, her eyes challenging.
"Here," she says, her voice soft, almost daring.
I take her wrist gently, guiding her finger to my mouth. My lips close around it, and I make sure to hold her gaze as I slowly pull back, savoring the rich chocolate. Her breath hitches, and I can’t help the smirk tugging at my lips.