Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 125852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
The distinct sound of his briefs coming down fills the room, and I wait, wondering if maybe he’ll forgo a new pair, but his dresser opens and closes a moment later.
Man, there was something seriously addicting about the way he came undone to nothing more than some heavy grinding. I mean, I know how to use my hips, but this is Brady.
I give myself a mental pat on the back.
He climbs in beside me, and my pulse pounds wildly, waiting to see what his next move will be.
Will he stay on his side? Put a pillow between us?
My fears are gone when he slides all the way over until my back is flush with his front.
His arm settles over me on top of the blanket, lying against the curve of my leg. “Night, baby.”
Baby.
Not Cammie Baby or baby girl.
No Hellcat or Cammie Girl.
Just…baby.
Something inside me melts a little, and I smile against my pillow.
“Night, Big Guy.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Brady
Last night was the worst way to end a night.
Not because of what happened but because of the plans I made for this morning. I had to keep giving my dick a stern talking to. On the football field with a guy I only just met was not the time to get a hard-on, but all I could think about was the way she felt.
The sounds she made.
Her ass cheeks and the way they promised to swallow my cock between them, those pretty, perfect nipples when she tossed my shirt over her head. At first, I almost pouted—I’ve become a bit obsessed with seeing her in my clothes to the point where I’m tempted to fill her dorm closet with more when we get back. But then.
She smirked down at me from the spot that is now officially hers—my lap—and turned into a little devil. God, the way I want to learn every part of her. She’s fucking exquisite when she comes. I can’t even imagine what she’d look like if it were my cock she creamed all over.
I hated leaving her in the bed this morning. I can’t fucking wait to look her in the eye, knowing exactly what I’ll be thinking the moment are gazes meet.
What would she do if I bent down and kissed her for my mom and dad to see? A silent claim is what I want to make. Like a kid on show-and-tell day, I want to brag and be like look at what I got, a one-of-a-kind woman to call my own.
I need to talk to her, tell her where my head is at. It’s the right thing to do.
I need to know where the pretending begins and ends before she becomes even more than my first and last thought each day. Because she is.
I don’t know when it happened, but it did. In fact, it might have always been there, far back in my mind, waiting for the time to come forward.
Cameron’s the snow and I’m the sleigh—I only make sense with her.
I’m the leather, and she’s the lace; we fit to form the perfect union.
I’m going to talk to her and tell her I love her.
Alister’s words hit me cold in the chest, and my hand freezes on the door handle to my childhood home.
Shit.
Fuck.
He’s going to tell her how he feels.
He’s going to tell her how he feels, and she’s going to listen with rapt attention because, at the end of the day, all she’s been searching for in this little lie of ours is a soft landing on a bed of truths.
Trust and tenderness.
She was waiting for her mind to clear so she could come to terms with how she feels under the pain and anger, and it’s easy to see there are no longer any clouds hanging over her head. No, the sky is clear and blue now.
She said it herself—she no longer thinks he intended to hurt her.
But he’s not ready for a girl like her. She needs a man with confidence and a secure hand to hold.
I want to be that man.
I want to hold her hand in public, and I want to mean it. I want to kiss her when no one is watching and give her more than I’ve ever given anyone.
I want to take her like I’ve taken no other, giving her a part of me no one else has ever had.
I want her to be my first.
“Bro, whoa, slow the fuck down,” I mumble, letting go of the door handle and running my hand through my hair.
But I can’t. Last night changed things. She didn’t try to hide her desire—she leaned into it, crawled on my lap like she’s done a hundred times, but without an ounce of the innocence the move has held in the past. No, she knew what she wanted, and she wasn’t shy about taking it.