Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“I seriously love this,” she says, grinding her hips in slow, sexy circles.
Well, I seriously love …
No.
That’s not what this is or ever could be.
My fingers find her waist, running up her sides until I touch the bottom of her tits. “You’re getting no complaints from me.”
She’s a goddess, and far too good for the likes of me.
Watching her ass move as she grinds against me takes the cake as the sexiest moment of this trip, and of my life. Her hair falls to the middle of her back and swishes with each movement. Whether she does it because she knows I like to hear it or just because she feels it, I don’t know, but her little moans and groans nearly send me over the edge.
“Lean forward,” I say. “Hold on to my legs.”
She grabs my calves, and her ass rises just enough to give me a clear view of her pussy accepting my cock.
Her tits drag against my legs as she moves, finding a rhythm she enjoys. I rub the apples of her ass cheeks, kneading them as she rocks. It’s perfect. The sounds, the view—the softness of her skin and the stickiness of her juices coating my groin—nothing could be better than this.
Well, maybe one.
But we don’t have all the time in the world, and she isn’t coming home with me.
And that’s a problem I’m going to have to deal with because all of that home shit Audrey was talking about earlier? It is about the people. And I’ve never felt more home than with her.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
Audrey
“I love how this cabin smells the same every time you walk in,” I say, carrying my computer bag while Brooks follows me to the bedroom with the rest of my travel gear.
“Oh, yes. Apples and cinnamon. It’s an Adler classic.”
I raise a brow as we deposit my stuff onto the bed and then head back into the kitchen.
“Gray and Hartley’s mom always burned apples and cinnamon candles or used the air spray things. I don’t know. But it’s the scent I associate with the Adlers.” He blows out a breath as the stress that he used to hide so well makes a comeback. “I think it’s kind of great that they keep up the tradition.”
“Probably makes them feel close to their parents.”
Brooks shrugs. “Come here and let me get my arms around you for a minute before I have to go.”
He doesn’t have to ask me twice. I fall into his arms, nuzzling against his chest as he envelops me. My eyes fall shut, and I breathe in spicy cologne mixed with fresh laundry scent that I’ve grown to associate with a dopamine hit.
I swallow against him, my mind unable to distract it from the single lingering thought it’s toyed with all day. What happens now? We haven’t discussed it or even broached it, really. The only conversation we’ve directly shared about this side of the getaway was in the bar.
“That means that for the next week, you’re mine. But we’ll do it in a way that makes it easy to walk away when the time comes.”
Those words were a beacon of hope when he uttered them last week. Today, they’re about as comforting as a knife shoved between my ribs.
I’m so out of my league here that I don’t know how to act or what to say. He knows I want to see him again. I’m ninety-nine percent sure he wants to see me again, too. So, what’s with the dramatic departure like we’ll never see each other again?
A lump settles in my throat as I try to channel my inner Gianna.
“Okay,” he says, blowing out a resigned breath. He kisses the top of my head and then pulls away. “I gotta pick up Otis from Jasper’s because he and Markie are going to visit Mia for a couple of days. And I need to return a shit ton of phone calls and texts that I’ve been ignoring since someone turned into a sex goddess.”
I tuck my chin and giggle. “Well …”
He heads for the door, and I follow, mildly more comfortable with this than I was two minutes ago. But it’s still a little nerve-racking.
“What day is it? Wednesday?”
I nod. “Yes.”
He pulls the door open, letting the cool breeze infiltrate the cabin. “How about I come by in the morning? I’m sure you have a bunch of stuff to catch up on, too.”
“Yeah.” Nothing that I couldn’t do while sitting on the couch with you … or on you. My stomach churns in disapproval of his plan. “Definitely.”
Brooks starts to walk out but stops before his shoe hits the porch. He pauses, his head hung, before he faces me. His eyes are wary, his lips pressed in a thin line, and it’s not a good look for me.
“I can only speak for myself,” he says slowly. “But I really didn’t expect to come home feeling like this.”