Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 135696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
I tested this and reached for the covers, pulled them around my body and up over my chest as I expended the supreme effort of pushing up to a forearm in bed.
“Are you for real?” I asked.
His expression went guarded. “What’s that mean?”
“You’ve done all that and showered after last night. It’s like you’re a machine.”
His face cleared, and he smiled at me.
“Did I pass out mid-kissing you?” I queried.
The smile he was aiming at me turned wolfish, and he answered, “Yeah. But you can make up for that shit tonight.”
I had to wait until tonight?
Whoops.
I was wrong. His smile had turned a touch roguish.
At him reading my mind, now his wide grin was absolutely wolfish.
I witnessed that and had woefully too short a period of time to process it, much less memorize it, before I let out a muted scream when he dragged me out of bed, with me still clutching the sheet to my chest, and he planted me in his lap.
Once there, he circled me with his arms and asked, “You sore?”
Oh God, was this embarrassing?
Why was this embarrassing? He’d been there the whole time. In fact, the sore part was all his fault.
I didn’t know why it was, but the answer was, yes. It was embarrassing.
I shoved my face in the side of his neck.
He tangled his fingers in my hair and slid them through, going back and doing the same as he said, “Not a surprise, honey. You can take a seriously solid fucking.”
I shivered in his arms at the memory.
“And a lot of it,” he went on.
I shivered again.
Those arms got tight, and a rumble rolled up his chest and through his lips.
He had memories too, and he liked them.
I shivered more.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
I tipped my head back and caught his eyes.
“That means we wait for tonight,” he decreed.
“Okay,” I whispered.
He came in for a lip touch, then moved back. “I gotta get to your house and get on that door. We boarded it up, but it’s far from secure. You need to get your ass in gear because you’re meeting Brenda out at Mix’s. It’s two towns over and an hour away. She wants your input in picking storm doors. Then you gotta head up to Hutch’s for training with Gia.”
“Mix’s?”
“It’s a posh home supply store. We got nothing like what they stock around MP, and Brenda isn’t one to cut corners or have anything fuck with her ‘vision.’”
I’d already figured this out about Brenda.
“Ah.”
“So you need to get moving.”
My eyes fell to his mouth, and I mumbled, “Right.”
I lost sight of his mouth when he was using it to plunder mine.
So I didn’t have to wait until tonight.
Awesome.
The kiss started hot and heavy, so it just got hotter and heavier, until he broke it by standing and putting me on my feet.
For a second, I was dazed.
And unhappy.
Then I wrapped the sheet I’d somehow managed to keep with me more firmly around me.
“Get to it, princess,” he commanded.
I rolled my eyes, sighed and took off toward the guest room. I could bring the sheet back when I was done.
“Nadia?” he called when I was halfway to the stairwell, juggling the sheet while gathering my clothes.
I looked back to him.
“Honey, I’ve seen, touched, tasted and fucked every inch of you,” he said gently. “And Ledger’s not here, you can lose the sheet.”
I thought about Angelica’s slim hips even after birthing two babies, her flat stomach (same about the babies), and all-around slender frame (except her breasts, which, it might be mean, but it could be true, kinda looked fake).
I did not have slim hips or a flat belly.
Again, he was in my head when, still gentle, he shared, “She had more weight on her back then. I’m not that guy. I like soft, and I think you know by now, I get off when I got something to hold onto.”
Was this man for real?
He was, because I tried not to see (but I saw…so much), though it couldn’t be missed, Courtney was curvy.
Even so.
“I’m not a dude, Riggs. I can’t traipse around nude after one time.”
The wolfish grin came back. “I was pretty into what we were doing, so my counting might be inaccurate. Still, think it was more than one time.”
Good Lord.
He was such a man.
I did another eye roll, grabbed my sweater, and strutted out of his room.
I took the sheet.
Early that afternoon, I rolled to a stop in my Range Rover in front of the cabin, doing this next to Riggs’s truck.
I really loved Riggs’s house.
But being there right then with the sun shining and another warm spell hitting the area (I’d learned at dinner last night that things didn’t really warm up until June, and the weather we were getting when I arrived was what they called a “heat wave,” even if it was only in the mid-seventies), I realized I missed my cabin.