Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Stepping under it’s a damn relief. The heat soaks into muscles wound too tight, rinses away the ache in my shoulders, slides down my chest. I brace my hands on the tile and let the water hammer the back of my neck. For the first time in three days, I start to feel human again.
I close my eyes. And I see her.
Kristen, curled up in bed with my shirt swallowing her frame. Kristen, laughing with a glass of wine on the porch. Kristen, looking me dead in the eye while she told her ex to get the hell off our property. Kristen, smiling and giving me a wave from behind the glass door of her work when I drop her off. Even though, she has a license and does drive herself when I can’t, I find I like taking her to and from work. It starts my day off right having her wrapped around me on my bike.
It hits harder than I want to admit. I missed her.
I tilt my head back, let the spray drown the thought before it can turn into something too big. I’m not a man built for missing. Not supposed to be, anyway.
The bathroom door creaks open.
I snap my eyes open, turn my head.
And there she is.
Kristen. Hair loose, face soft, clothes half-shed in her hands. She doesn’t say a word, just steps inside like she belongs here. Like the three days I was gone were nothing but a pause. She lets her dress slide off her shoulders, slow, deliberate, until it pools at her feet, panties already slipped off. Then she opens the shower door and steps in with me, steam curling around her like the water’s been waiting for her too.
Her skin brushes mine, warm against the heat. She tips her head up, water streaming over her face, and then she looks at me through the spray.
“I missed you,” she says, voice low, raw.
My throat tightens. My hands clench on the tile.
“Kristen.” It comes out like a warning, gravel in my chest. “I don’t have the self-control. If you don’t want all of me,” My jaw flexes. “Get out now.”
Her eyes flash, steady. Instead of backing away, she presses closer. Chest to chest. Her arms slide around my waist, water cascading over both of us.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
The heat that surges through me has nothing to do with the water. Her words hit me harder than any punch I’ve ever taken. I’m not going anywhere.
Challenge laid out.
The steam blurs the edges of everything, but she’s sharp and clear in front of me—eyes locked on mine, lips parted, water slicking down her hair, her skin. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t hesitate. She just presses closer, and the last of my restraint buckles.
I’ve spent months telling myself I’d wait. That she deserved time, space, healing. That I could take the edge off with cold showers and long rides. But there’s only so much a man can push down before it claws back up. I haven’t gone this long without a woman under me since I had sex for the first time at fifteen. And right now, with her pressed against me, her breath hot on my chest, her nails skimming my ribs like she’s daring me to finally take what we both know has been building—there’s nothing left inside me to keep the need at bay.
I catch her face in my hands, tilt her chin up. “You sure?” I rasp, because I need the words even if I already feel the answer in her body.
“Yes,” she whispers. “I’m sure.”
That’s it. The last barrier gone.
I kiss her hard. Weeks of hunger, of holding back, pour into it. She answers with the same kind of desperation, lips parting, tongue sliding against mine, her hands fisting in my hair like she’s been starving too. The water pelts down, hot and relentless, but I barely feel it compared to the heat radiating off her.
I press her back against the slick tile, my hands roaming down her sides, memorizing every curve, every shiver. She gasps into my mouth, arches into me, and that sound alone is enough to brand itself into my bones.
The kiss turns frantic, wet, teeth clashing, her legs trembling against mine. She clings to me like she’s afraid I’ll vanish if she doesn’t, but she doesn’t need to worry. I’m not going anywhere either.
Her fingers dig into my shoulders, sliding down my chest, mapping me like she’s claiming every inch. I groan, low and rough, the sound reverberating off the tile.
“Kristen,” My voice cracks. “You don’t know what you’re starting.” I feel like there is a beast inside me coming alive. The dragon spirit in me is fire burning for her that is about to be unleashed.
She pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, water streaming down her cheeks like tears that are anything but. “Yes, I do.” Her smile is small, fierce. “You warned me. I want you, Kellum. I want this.”