Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 109086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
I found him.
Stopping abruptly, just inside the kitchen door, I saw him in a chair by the table. Sitting back. Eyes closed. Shirtless. Totally and completely asleep.
I already knew Jake had a good physique, but seeing his chest naked now—I trailed down the sleekness of him. All smooth muscles. There were some scars on the side, which had tattoos interweaved with them so they looked like some cool Celtic symbol.
Screw him.
My mouth watered, but I pressed my lips together.
I hated that he could affect me like this.
He deserved nothing from me, certainly no appreciation of his body.
But I couldn’t tear my eyes away. He wasn’t lean, not totally, but nor was he a bulky bodybuilder. He was solid. Perfect. His chest was hard like cement. His stomach muscles moved as he breathed. They were corded into a valley of dips and mountains.
There was no softness on him anywhere, and I was raking my gaze over every inch of him.
Jake was ripped.
Another tattoo wrapped around his entire right side, taking up the whole length. A scale with a sword in the middle. There was more scrawling over the sword, but I couldn’t see the rest from how he was sitting.
My heart hiccupped because a tenderness came over me. He was the reason I was involved in all of this, but he looked vulnerable and soft. And tired.
Really, really tired.
I thought back over the days and wondered if Jake had slept at all.
A gun was on the table beside his phone, wallet, and keys. The coffee machine was brewing behind him, and there was some food opened on the counter. Eggs. Some bread. The toaster was pulled out. A container of butter.
He was making breakfast, sat down, and fell asleep?
More of my anger slid away. Maybe I wouldn’t kill him.
I would only maim him. Permanently.
The toaster went off. Two slices of bread popped up.
Jake jerked awake.
His hand picked up his gun. At the same time, he was out of the chair, across the room, and had a hand to my throat as he pinned me to the wall to the side. All of that happened within a second, not even two. I gasped from how fast he moved.
He wasn’t letting go.
“Jake,” I said, cautious. “It’s me.”
His eyes weren’t focused. He was still half-asleep.
I pressed a hand to his chest, spreading my fingers out so he could feel as much of my palm as possible. I wasn’t sure what I was doing. I was going by instinct, but I said softly, “Jake. It’s me. Sawyer.”
His hand tightened before the sleep cleared from his eyes, leaving him looking haggard and rough.
I had another moment to relax just as his hand fell away to drop the gun to the seat behind him. His arms were around me, picking me up in the next moment.
“Jak—”
His mouth slammed over mine.
I was engulfed in flames.
Panting, a need that demanded to be filled was pounding between my legs, but fuck him right now. Not the literal way. I gasped, “Jake. Stop.”
He gripped my hair and tugged my head back, lifting his eyes, glaring at me. “Don’t,” he growled, but it wasn’t what he said that quieted me. It was the absolute need in his gaze. He was stripped down, all the way, so I was seeing the deepest darkest part of him. And that part of him demanded this from me.
I gulped.
Damn.
I could hear the walls falling down around me.
I was such a weak sauce, but getting that look from him made something in me have to respond. My heart pounded once before my last bit of resistance crumbled.
I just gave in.
He saw the surrender in my eyes and a raw groan ripped from deep in his chest as he arched over me. His hands cupped the side of my face, and his mouth lowered back to mine.
I wish I could’ve fought him more. Do a little maiming at least, but I folded. I was done for. This man. This touch from him. How gently and tenderly he was kissing me, and the world swept out from underneath me.
I was falling for this psychopath.
As his kiss grew more insistent, more demanding, his hands fell away from my face to slide down my ass. He cupped both cheeks, getting a good strong and sturdy hold of them. Then he lifted me, stepping between my legs.
It felt so good, all of it.
The sweep of his tongue inside of me, as he was tasting me, claiming me too.
A helpless shudder worked its way up my spine, going backward, and by the time it got to my neck, I’d ceased thinking all together. My arms clung to him as my legs wrapped around his waist.
He carried me to a bedroom, kicking the door shut, and he turned, pressing me against it. His hand went to my thigh, gripping me tightly.