Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
No man has ever looked at me the way he’s looking at me now.
No one has ever touched me so softly and reverently.
No man has ever taken the time to listen to what I have to say.
No man would ever dash out in a rainstorm to save me or go through a dusty barn just for the fun of it. He sat through tea after and enjoyed it. He went all the way to Europe because he cared about someone else’s happiness. He can look at his life, see all his failings clearly, and admit to them, but it’s not the end for him. He wants more. He’s okay with change. I hardly know him, but I do know he’s patient and kind. He’s smart and sweet. And he has a big heart.
We might not work out, but we also just might. If we don’t, then we’ll move on, and we’ll be okay. But I’m pretty sure we’d have some great times to remember.
“Are you sure?” I ask right before his hand slides my bra up, and his thumb caresses my hard nipple.
“Sure of you, yes. Sure of me? I’ll work hard to earn the right to say yes to that.”
With his hand still on my breast, he leans in and kisses my neck, his lips and breath hot against my skin. There’s zero doubt in my mind that my neck is my new favorite erogenous zone.
“I’m sure I want more rainstorms. More laughter. More adventure. More calm. More sweet. More of you. Always.”
It’s amazing.
Truly.
Romance books paint all men as knowing the right thing to say and saying it and being all amazing and tender and hunky, but the hard truth is that real men are just flawed people, and that’s okay. But if you asked a regular guy what they want more of, the answer would probably be naked time. Humping, blowjobs, morning sex, night sex, day sex…just sex.
I have dated all the wrong guys. That would be their answer.
I’m sorry to all the good men out there. There probably are at least a few who would never respond with humping.
Rowleigh’s words are sexier than anything. Anything.
He sucks my neck softly, not hard enough to leave a mark. His teeth scrape against my skin, and then he pulls away just long enough to pull my shirt off. My bra is rucked up, but together, we shed it.
He groans, but even though that noise is all hunger, he’s a gentleman. He kisses my collarbones and guides me back onto the counter gently. My legs are hanging off, and in a few minutes, my back will protest, but watching him reach for his mug of tea, now cooled enough to be safe for this, I forget all about potential back aches and leg numbness.
Even more so, I forget everything when he moves the mug over my chest and then tips it so that just a trickle spills down my breasts.
I shiver at the sensation of the warm liquid, but the shiver turns into a full-body spasm when his tongue laps up the spilled tea between the valley of my breasts. He licks it all before trailing a hot path to my left nipple. He pours a little more tea over it while his mouth is right there, ready to catch it. That might be cheating, but I’m not going to call him on it.
“Mmm,” he hums. “This is the best way to drink swamp water tea. You make it so good that I could lose my ever-loving mind for it.”
His tongue strokes my right breast, finding my nipple and suckling it even though there’s no tea there.
Then, he gets bolder, tipping the cup over my belly and making a mess of me. The tea runs off my stomach and over the counter.
“Oops.” He chuckles darkly.
He eats me like a starving beast, licking and suckling along my abs. I don’t even have time to worry about them not being as toned as I’d like. I’ve skipped the gym for months now, opting to do at-home yoga. It’s okay, but I don’t have visible muscles the way I used to.
“Oh my god, Rowleigh.” I grasp his hair, pulling his face into me. I curl up and around his hot mouth, shivering and shaking, goosebumps bursting to life all over me. “If I asked you to go lower, would you?”
His head snaps up. “You mean, do I want to taste your sweet pussy?”
“That’s…umm…yes. That’s what I meant,” I mutter.
His eyes flash. “You’re so beautiful. So gorgeous. And you taste divine. I’d feast on you for hours if I could.”
“Okay. Yes. If you want to.”
I barely get the words out before his hands tear away my overalls, wrenching them down my legs. He pulls my shoes off and sheds everything except my panties.
He drops to his knees, dragging me with him. I sit up so my back isn’t in a spine-busting bend any longer. He parts my legs, dragging his nose down the very wet center of my plain lilac-colored cotton panties.