Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 61723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“Patience,” he murmurs, nipping at my collarbone. “We got all night, darlin’.” But his voice is strained, his control fraying at the edges. It drives me wild. When he finally pushes inside, it is with one long, slow thrust that stretches me open, filling me completely. I arch beneath him, a broken sound tearing from my throat.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” Tucker groans, his forehead pressing to mine, his breath coming in ragged bursts. “Like a damn vice.” He pulls back, then snaps his hips forward, driving deep. I cry out, my fingers clawing at his back, my body coiling tight around him. He sets a punishing pace, each thrust hitting that spot inside me that makes my vision blur, his cock dragging against my walls in a way that has me babbling, pleading as my orgasm builds like a storm I can’t outrun. Not that I want to.
“That’s it,” he grunts, his hand sliding between us to rub my clit in tight, relentless circles. “Come on my cock, Lucy. Show me how good I make you feel.”
The words send me over the edge. My back bows off the bed, my body clamping down around him as the orgasm rips through me, wave after wave of pleasure so intense it borders on pain. Tucker doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, his thrusts turning erratic as he chases his own release. As he comes, it’s with a guttural groan, his cock pulsing deep inside me, his body shudders above mine.
For a long moment, neither of them move. Tucker’s weight is a blanket over me, his breath hot against my neck, his cock pulsing the last of his release deep inside me. Then he rolls us, pulling me on top of him, his cock still half-hard inside me. I whimper at the shift, my sensitive flesh clenching around him as my aftershocks move through me.
“Round one,” he murmurs, his hands sliding up to cup my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my sensitive nipples. “Shower’s next. Then the wall. Then the floor.” His grin is full, wicked and promising. “Gonna fuck you so good you forget your own name, only thinking of mine.”
I shiver, my body already responding to the threat. No, after this, it’s a promise.
And for the first time in my life, I believe every word from a man.
EIGHTEEN
LUCY
I wake up warm. That’s the first thing I notice. Not the light slipping through the hotel curtains. Not the quiet hum of the air conditioner. Not even the unfamiliar ceiling above me.
Warmth.
Safe. Held.
My eyes blink open slowly, and for a second I don’t move. Because I know. Before I even turn my head. Before I even register the weight of an arm draped heavy over my waist.
I know exactly where I am. And who I’m with.
Tucker. Mellow. Bostic.
His chest is at my back, solid and steady, one arm wrapped around me like it belongs there. My body fits into his like it’s been practiced, like we’ve done this a hundred times instead of just once.
Just last night. Heat floods my face. My mind flashes—fragments, not details. His hands.
The way he called my name like it mattered. The way he didn’t rush. The way he waited, even when I didn’t think I needed him to.
The way everything felt right. I swallow, my throat suddenly tight. This is new. All of it. The closeness. The quiet after. The fact that I didn’t feel scared. Didn’t feel like I had to brace myself. Didn’t feel like I was giving something up just to keep the peace.
I shift slightly, and his arm tightens instinctively, pulling me closer.
“Don’t get up yet,” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep.
My heart stutters. “I’m not.”
He exhales against the back of my neck, settling again, his face brushing my hair.
For a second, I let myself just exist here. In this. In him. In the strange, soft calm I’ve spent years trying to find. And then reality slams back in.
Quinn. I go still.
The clock on the bedside table reads 8:17. Too late. Too late for comfort. She’s always up by now and she would have had Marlaina call me. Something in my gut feels off. I can’t explain it.
I twist in his arms, careful but urgent.
“Tucker.”
He’s awake instantly. Just like that. No grogginess. No confusion. Eyes sharp, body already alert.
“What’s wrong?”
“I need to call Marlaina.”
His expression shifts. Concern. Understanding. He releases me immediately, letting me sit up and reach for my phone on the nightstand. I fumble slightly, fingers not quite steady as I pull up Marlaina’ s contact and hit call.
It rings. Once. Twice. Three times. Voicemail. I hang up and call again.
No answer.
A cold thread of unease slips down my spine.
“She might be busy,” I say quickly, more to myself than him.
I hang up. Call again. Straight to voicemail this time.
My stomach drops. “That’s weird,” I whisper looking at my doorbell camera and seeing it’s offline. They stayed at Marlaina’s house, but in case Quinn didn’t sleep and wanted to be in her own bed, I left her with a key to my home. Why are my own cameras not working? Fear is building with every passing second inside me.