Total pages in book: 254
Estimated words: 240032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1200(@200wpm)___ 960(@250wpm)___ 800(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 240032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1200(@200wpm)___ 960(@250wpm)___ 800(@300wpm)
“Fuck, Nina,” he moaned under his breath, his breathing going irregular, his chest rising and falling quickly.
“You like that? Because you’re not the only one who wants to rub their face between some thighs. I’m going to want to bite yours, you should know that right now.”
His hips arched at the same time as his hand cupped the back of my head, tilting it up, and he slanted his mouth over mine, as the hand he had on my forearm slipped down to cover mine, and he worked both of our fingers up and down over his erection. Faster, squeezing harder….
“Come all over my fingers,” I told him before going up to the tips of my toes and catching his lips.
I felt him throb under my grip before he grunted and groaned into my mouth, hips thrusting, warm come spilling over my digits and knuckles. There was so much of it, it made me groan right alongside him, sucking on his tongue while I did. It was the dirtiest kiss of my entire life, and I loved it.
Henri pulled back just a little, his breathing heavy, but his eyes were bright and attentive, and I wasn’t ready for him to slant his mouth over mine again, sucking my tongue that time, eating at my mouth like it was his favorite place in the entire universe and his job from then on was to kiss me like that forever.
I gave him one last, soft, wet stroke before I tipped my head back and watched in slow motion as he gave my forehead a soft kiss. And only then did I ask, “So, are you saying I can do whatever I want to you?”
He looked me dead in the eye and confirmed every fantasy I could’ve ever imagined. “Whatever, whenever.”
Chapter
Twenty-Six
There were a lot of things in this world I was good at, even more I was decent at, and more than I’d care to admit that I was absolute crap at.
Controlling my emotions fell somewhere in the middle.
During our walk to pick up the kids, Henri and I hadn’t said a whole lot to each other. He’d taken my hand, then smiled down at me when I’d caught his gaze in surprise and pleasure. It was the same hand I’d worked him up and down with. But because you never knew who was listening, instead of talking about what we’d done to each other, I asked him about what exactly had happened with Shiloh and Pascal, and he’d gritted his teeth and given me an in-detail report of how their parents had reacted.
Phoebe had cried her eyes out, then claimed she was going to put a tracking device on Shiloh. His dad, the nicest ogre I’d ever met, and I’d known a lot of wonderful ones, had also gotten teary. My quiet little buddy, who I would never have imagined could be such a rule breaker, was going to be grounded for the next five years minimum.
To sum up what I’d learned about Pascal: I wasn’t going to see him for a decade or two, if he was lucky.
When I brought up putting in a good word for them with their parents, Henri shook his head and asked me to wait a few months. Everyone was disappointed and furious with the kids. I understood. It was one thing to do mischievous stuff, but it was another to do something that risked your life. If they didn’t cut that crap out now, how much further would they take it as they got older?
Right around that twenty-minute mark from when Agnes had called, we’d picked up the kids, with the three of us adults playing along perfectly that it was our decision. Then we’d walked back to the clubhouse, got some popsicles, and played tag. Since Agnes’s sleeping buddies thought they had the night off, I invited her to stay with us in my room and had been very surprised when she’d agreed.
The way she’d whispered, “Good night, Nina,” before I’d turned off the lamp had probably etched itself into my brain for the rest of eternity. I’d fallen asleep with a smile on my face, both from her and from the man that she adored who called her Ladybug.
Which led us to this moment.
I had planned on putting this conversation off with Duncan until I thought about it some more, but I made it all the way until half an hour after we’d woken up, when Agnes—in her puppy form—trotted off to her room and left us alone on the bed, yawning.
The truth was, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about my conversation with Henri, and how we might have agreed to maybe mate with each other.
It was only the rest of my life.
And Duncan’s.
And the lives of my future potential children.
Henri was only, possibly, the man I would wake up to and fall asleep next to for the next fifty-plus years, telling me things that made my whole body feel like it’d been lit on fire.