Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Caught off guard, I threw my head back and laughed.
“See why I can’t be trusted around men? I can turn any bad into a good. But I still think this one is one of the rare good ones. Just something to keep in mind,” she said, moving into my room to put the box on the bench.
“Thanks, Brooke.”
“Anytime. Once all that head ick cleans up, we want to see you down at the pool again.”
“We will be there,” I assured her, moving into our room.
“Ooh,” Lainey hooted as I put her in her beloved new swing that I’d wanted since she was born but could never afford.
“Swanky, right?” I asked as she started to swing side to side.
While she was occupied, I quickly cleaned up the room, making a mental note to add a vacuum to my list of non-essentials to buy. Sure, there was housekeeping at the motel. But they tended not to clean the rooms of the people living there as well as the rooms with high turnover.
Once I had some water in my giant new tumbler and had forced myself to eat some of the leftovers in the fridge—cold, since we didn’t have a microwave—I changed Lainey and gave her the final bottle of the night before putting her down in her playard. Then turned on her white noise machine Coast had bought her.
Finally, I took myself into the bathroom, spending a glorious half hour using all the new bath products Coast bought me—scrubbing, exfoliating, shaving, and slathering on some yummy-smelling lotion, then climbed into one of the new pajama sets.
As I walked back into the bedroom, I felt spoiled and luxurious.
And it was right then that there was a knock on the door.
I expected Brooke—back to sing Coast’s praises and offer to babysit while I took Coast for a ride—so I didn’t even stop to look out the peephole, just slid the lock and pulled the door open.
Then there he was.
Coast.
“Hey—” I started.
“Is Lainey sleeping?” he asked.
“Yeah, she—”
Coast stepped forward, grabbing me, turning me. Swinging the door shut, he pressed me back against it, making my stomach flip-flop.
“Thank God,” he said, reaching to slide the lock beside me.
Then his lips were on mine.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Zoe
Coast’s hands went to either side of my face as his lips pressed harder, sending little shockwaves of need through me.
Suddenly, every little fantasy I’d had about that very moment fell woefully short.
Coast kissed how he lived: hard, deep, with everything within him.
As for me? I melted into it, into him.
My hands rose to his sides, gathering up his tee, then sliding underneath, needing to feel his skin on mine.
Coast made that rumbling sound against my lips at the feel of my fingers.
Emboldened, I let them glide around to his back, moving up his warm skin.
Coast’s lips slanted over mine again, pressure bruising, and I couldn’t help but get pulled into the current of him.
His teeth nipped my lower lip, dragging a low moan out of me.
His hands were roaming then, brushing down the sides of my neck, over my shoulders, down my arms. One slipped inward, undoing the buttons of my pajama top.
A shiver moved through me and I had no way of knowing if it was from the chill in the room against my exposed skin, or the heat of my desire as I watched Coast’s eyes grow heavy-lidded and his jaw draw tight with his own need.
Finished with the buttons, his fingertip traced the slice of skin up from my waistband to between my breasts.
Then, before I could suck in a breath, his hand moved in, covering my breasts, dragging a shocked gasp out of me at my soft skin against his rough palm.
Coast leaned down, his lips going to my neck. His tongue slipped out to brush over my pulse point as his thumb started to work little circles around my nipple until it was straining, until I was arching into his touch, silently begging for more.
He gave me that, his thumb and forefinger rolling my nipple until I was letting out desperate, soft sighs.
His other hand rose, continuing the sweet torment until I felt like a live wire—vibrating with need. Something volatile, dangerous.
And those were things that Coast loved most.
His tongue traced down the column of my throat, slipped down between my breasts, trailed down my belly.
Heat pooled in my core as his warm breath tickled my skin.
All I could do was focus on him: the roughness of his hands, the softness of his hair, the orange and vetiver scent that clung to him.
His hands touched my ankles then slid upward—over my calves, the backs of my knees, my thighs.
My breath was coming in quick, shallow puffs as his fingertips teased across the hem of my shorts before slipping upward, grabbing the waistband of my shorts and panties, then slowly dragging them down.