Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 121296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Jaxon says, “You came home.”
And she says, “Yeah. I did.”
Corbin hugs her like he never wants to let go. McCartney wipes his eyes and kisses her cheek. Even stoic-ass Harrison gives her a one-armed squeeze and mutters, “Good to see you, darlin’.” One by one, they wrap her in a welcome filled with love. The rest step forward, one by one, to claim their place with our woman and show her how much we missed her.
This time, she knows what she means to us and where she belongs.
This is a second chance at building the life and love that we’ve been craving, and I know for certain that we’ll do our best to hold on tight to the woman who came here to write a story and, instead, wrote her name across our hearts.
50
JAXON
The sun has barely cleared the ridge when I finish up my chores. The others are still working hard, but I'm buzzing with energy. Grace is home. She's real and here and breathing under our roof again, and hell, if that isn't enough to put a charge in my blood.
I jog up the back steps two at a time, wiping sweat from my neck with the hem of my shirt. The hallway is quiet, and I glance around, half expecting to find kids underfoot, but they must be sleeping. The house still carries that sacred hush you only get this early in the morning. I head for the bathroom, meaning to wash the dust off my hands and maybe my face if I can be bothered.
Then I see her.
Grace has a toothbrush in her mouth, pink lace panties dipping into her peachy ass, matching pink cowboy boots, and her hat cocked sideways on her head like sin itself. That's it. Nothing else. Her bare back is, to me, smooth and sun-kissed and utterly tempting.
My feet stop moving. My heart sure doesn't.
She catches my eyes in the mirror and keeps brushing, like everything about this is normal, and she hasn't just lit a fuse in every part of me that matters.
“Morning,” she mumbles around the toothbrush, foam clinging to the corner of her mouth.
I step in behind her without a word, half in a daze, and wrap my arms around her waist, dragging her to me so she can feel exactly how much trouble she's in. She's warm, soft, and smells of mint, and all I want is to press myself into every damn inch of her.
“You trying to kill me?” I murmur against her ear, watching her eyes in the mirror. “Pink lace, darlin'? Really?”
She smirks around her toothbrush, then spits into the sink, rinsing her mouth before tilting her head toward mine.
“Figured it was time I embraced the brand.”
I growl low in my throat, hands sliding up her ribs, palms flat and greedy. Her nipples pebble under my touch, and she leans into it, into me, like she's amped up for this as much as I am.
“Gonna make me late for breakfast,” I say, mouth brushing the curve of her shoulder, stubble scraping the curve of her breast. She shudders.
“Pancakes can wait.”
I kiss her neck and let one hand slip lower, sliding under the elastic, through soft curls and into her slickness. She's ready, and I've barely touched her. She gasps, gripping the counter, and arches her back, presenting her body like a dream.
“Jaxon…”
“Shh,” I whisper. “I got you, baby.”
It takes seconds to free my cock and even less time to pull her panties aside and drive into her tight, wet heat. In the mirror, I watch as her lips part and her eyes widen. I take her hands and place them on the cool glass, holding them there as I fuck into her in long slick strokes that makes us both groan. Her body is bent over the vanity, stretched out and sexy, back arched and ass jiggling with every impact. God, she's so damned perfect; my brain glitches looking at her.
“Fuck, Jaxon. Fuck… that's so hot,” she says as I grip her hips and pile into her over and over and over again. But it's not enough. I want to kiss her and capture her moans, so I pull out and turn her slowly until she's backed against the tiled wall. She pulls my shirt over my head, fingers fumbling for my cock. We don't speak. We don't have to.
I lift her with a groan, her thighs hooking around my waist, and I push inside an inch. Her breath stutters. Mine stops. For a second, the world narrows to our heat and heartbeats and the sound of her whispering my name like it's the only one that matters.
“Jaxon.”
“Fuck.” My legs shake with anticipation as she flutters around me, fitting like she always has: tight, hot, and so goddamn perfect I forget how to breathe. Her head falls back against the wall with a soft thud, lips parted on a moan that slams into me harder than any ranch work ever could.