Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 102016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
“That’s it. Ask me for it.”
“Please let me come.”
I press against her clit harder, crook my finger to brush over her G-spot, and when she starts to shake, I pull away.
“Arrgh, Bridger!”
“I told you.” I kiss the inside of her thigh. “Call me Chief, and there are consequences.”
“What can I call you, then? Daddy’s out.”
I narrow my eyes at her, but I actually don’t hate that one.
“No.” She shakes her head. “Birdie calls you that. There’s an ick factor there.”
“Point taken.”
Her hand is combing through my hair, and I stand and push inside of her once again, making both of us groan.
“God, nothing feels like you do.” I cup her face, and she takes my thumb into her mouth. “You’re so fucking beautiful. So perfect for me, sweetheart.”
“Swoony,” she whispers, her eyelids lowering halfway as I fuck her here on this island. “I love your body. Your muscles. The way you watch me when we’re like this.”
“Like what?” I kiss her chin. “How do I watch you?”
“Like you love me.”
“Baby.” I cover her mouth with mine and sink into her, still moving in and out of her, even harder now. “I love you so much I ache with it.”
Tears form in the corners of her eyes, and I feel that buildup happening inside of her again, and this time, there will be no stopping it.
“Come for me, Dani.”
She groans, bites my lip, and clenches around me.
“Yes, baby. That’s it.”
“God, love,” she pants, gripping me so tightly she’ll leave marks.
“I’m going to come, and you better go with me.” My words are rough against her lips, and then we’re both flying, soaring through the orgasm of the goddamn year.
“Holy moly.” She drags her hand down my face. “Wow.”
“Yeah.” I grin and kiss her cheek. “Wow.”
“We’re good at the kitchen sex.”
“A man’s gotta eat.”
Chapter Twenty
DANI
“Okay, we’re going to measure the sugar,” I say to Birdie, who’s standing on her stool, her adorable apron tied around her middle, ready to help. “We need four whole cups.”
“That’s not enough sugar,” she says, making Mama Blackwell laugh.
“She’s got such a sweet tooth,” Mama says as she washes out a bowl for us to reuse. “Just like her grandma.”
“I admit, so do I. We try to limit the amount of sugar that we keep in this house, otherwise, I’d eat it all. Good job, Birdie.”
“These apples are nice and soft,” Mama says, stirring the mixture on the stovetop.
I’m doing this in batches, to keep it more manageable. We have one batch already jarred, one on the stove, and another that Birdie is currently mixing with a wooden spoon.
“Am I okay to take these off the heat?” Mama asks.
“Of course, thanks.”
“Where did you get this recipe, Dani?” she asks as she turns off the burner and moves the pot.
“I found it online,” I admit with a shrug. “I wanted to make some a few years ago and stumbled upon this recipe, and I have to say, it works.”
“And how did you learn to can?”
“Video tutorials online.”
I turn to find Mama watching me with sad eyes.
“What?”
“If I’d known you wanted to learn, I would have taught you and your sisters when you were teenagers.”
“You taught us a lot as it was. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t know how to sew a button or clean a toilet or iron my slacks. I wouldn’t know how to get a stain out of the carpet or what to do for a bee sting. You taught us so much, and you’re the mother of my heart.”
Mama blinks and folds me in for a hug, holding on tight.
Birdie’s swinging her hips back and forth in time with the Sidney Sterling song playing on the Bluetooth speaker that Bridger bought for me, since he knows I like to have music on in the kitchen, and Mama and I take a minute to dance with her, making her giggle.
“We loved it when Sidney sang this song at the concert, didn’t we?”
“It was so good, Grandma.”
“I bet it was,” Mama says and kisses Birdie’s head. “Your dad told me you guys had fun, and he sent me the photos of you with Sidney. It looked like she was really nice.”
“She gave us T-shirts and posters that she signed,” Birdie informs her grandmother while I transfer the latest apple mixture to a pot for the stove.
“I’m glad you had fun,” Mama says, and then her arm is draped over my shoulders, and she’s hugging me to her side. “I’m glad you all had fun.”
“We really did.”
“You know, I love this.”
I frown over at her. “Making apple butter?”
“Well, yes, I enjoy being in the kitchen, but I love being here, with both of you. Seeing you with Birdie and Bridger.” She kisses my cheek, and it makes my heart swell. I know where Bridger gets his love language. It’s from his mom. “You make a beautiful family.”