Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25267 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25267 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Mick groans, ragged and desperate, and slams in one, two, three more times and then he lets go, jaw clenched, face buried in my shoulder, every inch of him shaking with the force of it.
For a minute, there’s nothing but the ragged sound of his breathing and my whimpering echoing off the walls.
He flops down next to me, but not all the way. He tucks me into his side, still half on top, his arms tight around my waist like he’s afraid I might just disappear. “Wow.” I breathe against his warm skin.
“You can say that again.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
MICK
The light in my bedroom is thin and gray, like the typical Seattle morning. I don't mind. Mia is a warm, solid weight against my side, her breathing the only rhythm that matters.
She’s tangled in my sheets, dark hair spilled across my pillow like a wild, beautiful mess. She looks younger when she’s sleeping. I trace the line of her shoulder with my eyes, careful not to move. I don’t want to break the spell.
It hits me then. It’s not the sudden, lightning-strike kind of realization—it’s more like a slow thaw. I’ve been in love with Mia Wells since the first time she called me Micky Boy. I just refused to admit it until I saw her sleeping in my bed, looking like she fucking belongs here.
I make a silent vow right there, watching the dust motes dance in the dim light. I’m never letting her go. I’m done playing the Neutral Zone. I’ve claimed her, and I’m keeping her.
Mia stirs, a small sound catching in her throat. Her eyes flutter open, that deep blue still hazy with sleep. When she sees me, she doesn't pull away. She smiles, and I feel my heart do something stupid and erratic that has nothing to do with cardio.
"Morning," she mumbles, her voice sleep-roughened and far too sexy for this time of the morning.
"Morning, trouble." I lean down, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
She stretches, the motion pulling the sheet down just enough to remind me exactly what’s underneath. "Urgh. Please don’t tell me you’re a freaking morning person."
I chuckle; the vibration rumbled deep in my chest. "You’ll get used to it."
“I seriously doubt that.” She grumbles and snuggles deeper into the covers.
I slide my arms under her, lifting her like she weighs nothing. She squeaks, her hands instinctively flying to my neck, her eyes wide.
"Mick! What are you doing?"
"Taking care of my girl," I say, carrying her toward the master bath. "You’re stiff. I’m stiff. We need a nice hot shower to loosen things up." I wink down at her and she rolls her eyes at me.
I set her down in the oversized walk-in shower and turn the handle. The water hisses and steam fills the large bathroom.
I step in with her, the spray hitting my back. I pull her flush against me, my hands finding her waist. She’s so small compared to me, so delicate, but she fits in the hollows of my body like she was carved specifically for the space.
"You're being very attentive," she whispers, her back to my chest as the water slicks her hair down.
"I'm being thorough," I correct, my hands sliding up to her tits. I palm the heavy, soft weight of them, my thumbs brushing over her nipples until they’re tight peaks against my skin. "I told you last night. I'm not just here for the fun parts."
She leans her head back against my shoulder, a soft moan escaping her. "This feels like a fun part."
"It's the best part," I groan, turning her around in my arms. I want to see her face. I want to see those blue eyes go dark with what I'm about to do to her.
I lift her, her legs wrapping around my waist instantly. She’s soaking wet, her skin glistening under the recessed lights, and she looks like a goddamn dream. I back her against the cold tile, the contrast of the chilled stone and the hot water making her gasp.
"Mick," she breathes, her fingers digging into my shoulders.
"I've got you," I mutter, my mouth finding the sensitive skin of her neck. I bite, just hard enough to leave a mark. "You're mine, Mia. You hear me?"
"Yes," she gasps, her hips arching into mine. "And you’re mine." Goddamn. I’ve been hers since the first moment we met.
I don't wait. I can't. The need for her is a physical ache, a pressure in my chest that only she can relieve. I guide my cock to her entrance, finding her already slick and ready for me. I thrust upward, one deep, sliding motion that fills her completely.
She cries out, her head snapping back as she grips my hair. "You feel so good."
"You're so tight," I growl, beginning to move. I keep the pace slow at first, agonizingly deep, feeling every inch of her clenching around me. The steam is thick now, the air heavy with the scent of my sandalwood soap and Mia’s delicate fragrance.