Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 145574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
“Not at all.”
“Assistant Section Officer Wright?” a high, feminine voice called across the small lobby.
Both women turned to see their section officer stride forward.
“Scarlett,” she clarified, beckoning her with a hand.
Scarlett gave her sister a pat on the shoulder, then met Section Officer Gibson in the middle of the small lobby. “Ma’am?”
“I wanted to commend you for keeping your wits about you tonight. There aren’t many girls who could perform for twelve straight hours, and even fewer who could do so after…experiencing a raid.” Her lips were tight, but the older woman’s eyes were soft.
“Just doing my job, ma’am,” Scarlett answered. There were men doing far more than she was in far worse circumstances. Doing her best was the least she owed them.
“Indeed.” She dismissed her with a nod, but there was a hint of a smile before she turned to walk away.
She joined Constance at the door, and then the pair walked into the morning sunlight. Scarlett blinked, the light stinging her eyes despite her hat. Eight in the morning had never felt quite so brutal.
Her breath caught, and she gasped at the tall figure standing in the middle of the pavement in service uniform.
“Jameson,” she whispered, her knees nearly giving out in relief.
…
He covered the distance between them, eating her alive with his eyes. She was okay. He’d flown two missions last night, breaking only to refuel and eat before launching again, and he’d worried about her the entire time.
“The thing about you working Special Duties is there’s no one who will confirm that you made it to work.” His voice came out sandpaper rough, and he didn’t care.
“Right. They wouldn’t.” Her gaze raked over him, as if she needed the same reassurance he did—they were both alive.
Her sister glanced between them. “I’ll wait for you in the car.”
“I’ll take her home,” Jameson offered, unable to look away from Scarlett. “That is, if you’d like me to.”
Scarlett nodded, and Constance slipped away.
Only feet separated them, and he knew his next words would either narrow or widen that gap, so he chose them carefully. He took her hand and led her from the sidewalk, through the short grass, until they were hidden from view and shaded by the heavy limbs of a giant oak tree.
There was worry in those blue eyes as she looked up at him. Worry, and relief, and the same longing he felt every time he looked at her.
Maybe the right words weren’t words.
He cradled her head in his hands and kissed her.
…
Finally. She felt as though she’d been waiting a lifetime for this man, this kiss, this moment, and it was finally here. There was no hesitation on her part, no gasp of surprise as he stroked his lips across hers, kissing her softly.
She slid her hands up his chest, resting them just above his heart. Then she kissed him back, rising on her toes to press her mouth to his. It was as though he’d set a match to a pile of tinder—she went up in flames.
He deepened the kiss, gliding his tongue across her lower lip before drawing it between his. Yes. She wanted more of that. When she opened to him, his tongue swept inside, stroking hers as he learned the curves of her mouth.
He was good at this.
Heat licked its way down her spine, igniting her skin and singeing her common sense into a hasty retreat. Her hands fisted in his uniform, and she threw herself into the kiss, yanking him closer even as she felt them moving backward. Her back hit the tree, and she barely blinked. He tasted like apples and something deeper, darker. More. She wanted more.
She wanted to kiss Jameson every day for the rest of her life.
She felt his groan throughout her body when she explored his mouth the way he had hers, finally drawing his lower lip between her teeth lightly.
“Scarlett.” He swore against her lips, then took her mouth over and over, moving his hand to her waist to pull her closer.
Nothing was close enough. She wanted to feel his every breath, every heartbeat, wanted to live inside that kiss where there were no bombs, no raids, nothing that would pry him from her arms.
She lifted her hands to his neck and arched against him as his lips slid to the curve of her jaw. Pure, insistent need unfurled in her belly, and her fingernails bit into his skin as she gasped at the sensation. He worked his lips down her neck in hot, open-mouthed kisses, and she tilted to give him better access.
He reached the collar of her uniform and, with a groan, brought his mouth back to hers. The kiss spiraled, taking her with it. She’d never felt so consumed by another person in her life, never willingly given this much of herself. In the midst of letting go, she stumbled onto the truth she’d been too hesitant, too cautious to admit until now: Jameson was the only one she would ever want like this.