Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
I lift my head to peer up at him. “Do you want me to go change?”
“No.” He wraps his arms a little tighter around me. Keeping me close. “No, I don’t want you to change.”
“So, no movie. I guess we could talk.”
“Talk,” he chokes out. “Yeah, we can do that.”
I start to move away and his arms tighten again. “I’m going to turn out the light.” He reluctantly lets me go as I slide across the mattress to turn off the lamp and move back to the middle of the bed. He’s now lying on his side, so I do the same facing him. We have nothing but the moonlight filtering into the room, but I can still make out his features.
“Do you want kids?” he asks.
“Starting with the heavy hitters, huh?” I tease.
“Blame my mom.”
I chuckle softly, before taking a deep breath and answering him honestly. “I never thought I’d find a man I could trust enough to be vulnerable with to get to that point. However, I love kids, and I’d love to be a mom. Watching Briar with the girls—yes. One day. What about you?”
“With my wife, yeah, I want to be a dad.”
“You don’t have to be married these days,” I say, a little defensively.
“Hey.” His hand reaches up and smooths my hair back out of my eyes. “You misunderstood me. I said with my wife. You are my wife, Brogan.”
“Oh.” I did take his answer wrong, and I’m floored by his reply.
“How many?” he asks, saving me from floundering in his response.
“A couple, at least.”
“The chance of twins is high. Would you want that?”
“Yeah.” I smile. “I loved growing up with my best friend. River and Rayne remind me so much of Briar and me when we were growing up. What about you?”
“At least two. It was lonely being an only child. Well, kind of. I had the guys, and we all spent a lot of time together.”
“At least two,” I repeat.
“At least two. With my wife.” He moves closer, and our bodies are now aligned. He rests his hand on my bare hip, and I suck in a breath. “You set the pace, Brogan. You decide what happens between us.”
My insecurities start to rear their ugly head, but somehow, he knows and soothes me.
“Stop that. All I see is you. You’re the only woman I’ve seen for far too long. You’re perfect.” He slides his hand up my bare back in a feather-soft touch.
I shiver at the contact. “I like it when you touch me,” I whisper, not sure he can hear me over the rapid beat of my heart.
“Your skin is so soft.” His hand continues to stroke gently up and down my spine. He ventures to my belly, and slowly, his hand creeps up. “Is this okay?”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Y-Yes.”
“Touch me,” he murmurs. “There isn’t a single thing you could do to me that I won’t like.”
“I don’t know how.” I close my eyes, my confession hanging between us.
“There is no right or wrong answer here, Brogan. I’m yours to explore.”
I want that. I want that so much. My hand trembles as I place it on his bare chest and tentatively move over his abs. “Hard, yet smooth,” I blurt.
He hums and moves his hand higher. His thumb traces over my nipple, and I can’t stop the moan that falls from my lips. That doesn’t stop him as he explores my body with a soft, gentle touch.
I do the same, reaching the waistband of his boxer briefs, and my hand stills. “Sorry,” I mutter.
“Don’t. Everything I am is yours, Brogan Lanigan.”
“I’ve never….” My voice trails off.
“Good. It makes me really fucking happy that I’m the only man you’re going to touch like this.”
“The only?” I ask.
“You heard me, baby. I know that makes me an asshole because I’ve… been here before, but I need you to know no moments before this one matter. They’re all forgotten. There is no one but you.”
His words make me feel brave. So, with a trembling hand, I slide my hand beneath the waistband of his underwear and I feel him—hard and like silk—as I palm his stiff length.
“Shit,” he hisses.
“Am I hurting you?” I release him.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he grounds out. “You’re not hurting me. It feels so damn good to have your hands on me.”
“I was just touching you,” I say, not sure how good that could actually feel.
He moves his fingers back under my shirt and palms my breast, and I moan. “See,” he says smugly.
“Yeah,” I agree. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Tonight, we explore. We get to know one another by touch, but that’s it. Our hands can roam, but that’s where it ends. Are you okay with that?”
“I’m okay with that.” I’m more than okay with that. He always knows what I need. His unwavering understanding and guidance are a turn-on, but I’ll never tell him that. Knowing I can say no, or admit that I’m inexperienced or scared gives me the confidence I need to keep going. To let my hands explore him.