Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
My breathing is jagged, my heart racing out of my chest. As I stare into his eyes, I know my mission out here is fruitless.
But his lips don’t meet mine. I’m not suddenly pressed to the cold steel fridge and taken advantage of. No, disappointingly. Instead, he caresses my cheeks with his thumbs, and when his gaze drops to my mouth, he runs the pad of one over my bottom lip. “I lied,” he says, his voice husky with need and his body pressing against mine.
“About?” I pant.
“Earlier,” he says, his mouth gravitating toward mine. “I was totally looking.”
I want to smile, but I restrain myself under my growing need for him. He may be charming, but I refuse to be like every other woman in his life. What’s the fun in that? “Not every girl would find that charming.”
“It only matters if you find it charming.” Fine . . . he knows how to make me swoon. I’ll give him that. What else I’ll give him remains to be seen.
I slide my arms around his neck because it’s fun to be in his spotlight. The man can have any woman he wants. That he’s looking at me like I’m something special is quite the aphrodisiac.
My smile is easily coaxed despite wanting to feign I’m hard to get. Who am I kidding? I lost inspiration months ago. So when a ridiculously handsome man is delivered right to my bed, who am I to question fate?
All logic and excuses fly out the window. I take hold of his shoulders and press myself against him. Lifting on my toes, I’m just about to kiss him, but stop and whisper, “Hungry?”
CHAPTER 3
Baylor
“Not where I thought this was going,” I say, sliding my hands down to the curve where her shoulders meet her neck. “But I can’t lie. I could eat something.”
I hear her swallow in the quiet room before she asks, “Are we still talking about food?”
Massaging her shoulders gently, I lean against the counter and bring her closer to stand between my legs. “I’m up for whatever suits your mood.”
Her lips part, and she tugs the lower one under her top teeth. Her breath steadies as if she’s caught herself. Wrapping her hands around my wrists, Lauralee replies, “We should get some food. I can go downstairs and make something—”
“You don’t have to cook for me.”
“It could be simple like a sandwich. Or ice cream.”
Earlier tensions have disappeared, and our bodies have eased against each other. There’s no rush to the bed or to make something happen. I like it, actually. She’s comfortable to me. “Seems sleep is going to evade us. Let’s go down together.”
She slides out of my hold, though her hand drags lightly across my abs until her feet take her out of reach, and she heads for the door. Taking the key off the hook on the wall, she tugs on the hem of her T-shirt. “Should we bother getting dressed?”
“We’ll be soaked before we get down the stairs.” I come around the peninsula to stand next to her. “Nothing like an adventure at three in the morning.”
Excitement widens her eyes as she grins like she’s about to get into some good trouble. Opening the door, she looks back over her shoulder. “We’ll make a run for it.” There’s no question, but I can see by her raised brows that she wants to hear my thoughts.
“I’m right behind you.”
With a nod, she turns back to the pouring rain and dashes out the door. I stay close as she uses the rail to guide her down. Twirling around the pole to safe cover under the patio, she unlocks the door to the shop and shoulders it open.
Inside, we stand dripping on the hard floor. My eyes are drawn to a face I’ve not paid enough attention to—dark lashes wet from the rain, high cheekbones on either side of her straight nose, all highlighted by the heart shape.
I slide my gaze lower to the fabric clinging to her body. Her tits round, a good helping and a handful, her nipples hard and teasing. The shirt dips down to the curve of her waist to the swell of her hips. I remember her having a rockin’ body at the reception, and we even had a moment that felt like it could have led to more. But then my nephew jumped in excitement when he saw a doodlebug on the side of the chicken coop, and we lost the opportunity that had been presented. I can’t remember what happened after, but I know it involved a lot of shots and stumbling up to my room, alone, before passing out just before sunrise.
I catch her eyes returning after a quick once-over herself and biting that lip again. I’m tempted to bite it for her. She laughs as if I’ve called her out. I don’t laugh, but a wry grin has solidified on my face.