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)
Jake slowly eased out of me and my knees buckled. I slid down the shower wall, but his arm held me in place, still wrapped around my waist. He picked me up, carrying me to the bed.
“Jake, the bed. I’ll soak it.”
“I don’t care.” He laid me down but disappeared, going back into the bathroom and returning with some towels. Spreading them out on the mattress, he moved me over them, joining me. As soon as he did, he tugged me into his arms.
His head lifted, nuzzling into my neck before he breathed me in. “You smell like cupcakes.”
I grinned against his chest, loving this. “That must be my natural scent because your girlfriend’s shampoo was some tea-smelling stuff.”
His arms tightened around me. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
I propped my chin on his chest, stretching languidly over him. “Then what is she to you?”
“Laila was a hookup that I kept going back to because she was convenient.” He tilted my chin up. “She’s the past.” A different expression switched over his face, tightening in regret. “But you do need to know that I am divorced.”
I tensed. He’d been married?
He frowned, feeling that. “What’s going on in your head?”
I shook my head. “You were married?” I hesitated, then saw where my nails had cut into him. I smoothed a hand over them. They were my mark, just as he had marked me. A satisfied feeling of possessiveness rose in me. Good. I liked seeing my mark on him.
He ran his thumb over his mark on me as well, but he was frowning, and I knew his mind had slipped away to what he needed to tell me.
“I—”
His eyes fell to mine, growing clear again. “What?”
“I found a picture.” I bit down on my bottom lip. What if I shouldn’t bring that up? What if I was opening a door to a vault that should’ve been left locked up? But he told me that he was divorced . . .
“Stop that.” He touched my lip, making me release my lip. “I told you. If someone bites you, it’s me. It’s only me.” He leaned down, his mouth fusing with mine.
I breathed him in, and breathed in the kiss. If we could be like this forever? I wanted that. Except not with the kidnapped girl. Let’s work toward not kidnapping people.
He nipped me one last time before lifting his head. “You found a picture?”
My heart speared, but I just asked him. “Do you have kids?”
His eyes held mine a moment before he nodded. “I have a boy.”
“You have a son?” He was his son. I’d been right. My mouth went soft, remembering the picture I found. “How old?”
“He’s seventeen.”
I pushed up. “How old were you when you had him?”
“We were eighteen. Young.”
I did the math in my head, and I wasn’t a math person. My eyes got big, so big. “You’re thirty-five?”
His eyes narrowed. “Yeah . . .”
I was a cougar. A total cougar. “I’m older than you.”
I’d never been the older woman.
I was now the older woman.
I didn’t know how I felt about this. “I’m like your sugar mama.”
A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You’re a year older than me. And this is not a sugar-mama situation.”
Okay. We were back to being serious. I told my inner cougar to take a nap. Scooting to his side, I moved so I was facing him, my legs crossed in front of me. It gave me some breathing room, but Jake sat up and pulled me onto his lap, straddling him. His back was against the headboard, and his hands fell to my thighs, tracing up and down.
He didn’t just have a son. I noted, “You have a young adult.”
“Tab and I were high school sweethearts. We tried. Or I tried. We got married at the courthouse, but it was over almost before it ever got started. Her family was pissed about the marriage. They didn’t approve of my family.”
“They knew about your family’s business?”
His mouth tugged up in a half-hearted grin. With the lines under his eyes and the shadows in them, the half grin looked sad. “Everyone did where we lived. My family likes to operate out of Maine because it’s easy to be remote up there. They don’t use the usual protection tax, stuff like that. The locals are left alone and in return they leave us alone. My family specializes in transportation and storage. Some of our warehouses have things a lot of governments would love to get their hands on, but it’s kept under wraps.”
“What sort of things?” I traced my hands down his chest, lingering on his stomach. His muscles shifted under my touch, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was frowning at my shoulder, lost in thought.
“Things I don’t want to tell you. Things used in wars. Other things.” The shadows doubled in his gaze.