Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
“You want to talk about it?” Kael murmurs, low.
I shake my head, needing a few more minutes of silence.
We sit quietly for a long time until Zane comes outside, a huge grin on his face, his hair messier than ever, his shirt ripped open. “Party’s turning into an orgy,” he reports, grinning wide. “You two coming in, or you want me to bring snacks out here?”
Kael grunts, a faint smirk on his face. “We’re good, man.”
“For real, Sable,” Zane says, “you ever want a job, you got it.”
I laugh. “Noted.”
He leaves and Kael turns toward me. He reaches over and tilts my face to his so I can’t look anywhere but him.
“You okay?” he asks, voice not as soft as he thinks.
I try to say yes. It comes out as a laugh. “Better than I’ve been in a long time.”
He looks at me, really looks, then runs his finger over my bottom lip. “You scare the shit out of me, but fuck, I want you in a way I’ve never wanted anyone else.”
My breath hitches.
I wait for him to pull away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he kisses me, slow and deep, the kind of kiss that curls my toes. I let him, because if there’s a better way to forget the last few years of my life, I haven’t found it yet.
I am so wrong, I know it.
I shouldn’t be doing this.
But I can’t make myself stop.
I just want to taste him for a second longer.
The kiss deepens, and before I know it, he’s pulling me onto his lap, my knees either side of his hips.
Kael's hands knot in the back of my shirt. The fabric digs up under my arms, his knuckles firm and hot against my skin. He breathes into me, filling the empty places. My knees get braver, clamping tighter around his hips, and I can feel exactly what he wants from me, nothing subtle about it. The air slips cold under my shirt but his hands are so hot I swear I’m burning.
My own hands wander, fingers skating up underneath the hem of his tee, mapping scars and muscle, the ridges and valleys of him that could be anyone’s, but he lets them be mine, just for now. There’s a vulnerability in this moment, a shared intimacy that feels both fragile and profound. It’s as if time stands still, the world outside fading into insignificance.
He lifts me with a growl so low, so sexy, it sends a jolt right to my core. He crosses the compound in a few long strides, reaching the shed and knocking aside a bucket and half-empty bag of potting soil, mouths never parting, my back slamming against the wall. The rawness of it shocks a gasp out of me. He grins against my mouth, biting my lip, waiting for me to run.
I don’t.
I should.
But I don’t.
He pins me there, hips hard against mine. I want him, so fucking bad it burns. His hands, his mouth, they’re everywhere. I arch into him, the ache roaring between my legs so loudly I could scream. He groans again, low and brutal, and it’s my name. He rakes his teeth over my neck and my moans turn into desperate whimpers.
His hand slips down under the waistband of my jeans. His fingers are cold at first, then hot as he swipes them up my pussy, running his thumb over my clit. It feels so fucking good, but the second his fingers are inside me, everything shifts and a wave of guilt surges through me, causing my entire body to freeze.
I shake my head, tears bursting forth. He releases me without question, without guilt. I stumble backward, pressing my hands to my face, sobbing in a way that is in no way attractive.
“Darlin’,” his voice comes out soft, kind, far too good for me. “It’s okay.”
What a goddamned disaster I am.
And a terrible wife.
“I need to go,” I croak, fixing my clothes. “I don’t want to be this person. I can’t be this person.”
He watches me, the blue of his eyes sharp as ice, then nods, like he gets it.
I turn and run out of the compound.
Not looking back.
Even though I desperately want to.
I ARRIVE BACK HOME as the sun is rising and the world is quiet. Walking into the clubhouse feels wrong, on so many levels, but I have to talk to Gage. Clearly things aren’t where they need to be, because if they were, I wouldn’t even be thinking about Kael.
Maybe it’s time the relationship comes to an end.
The thought hurts, something I don’t fully understand.
I don’t want to be with Gage anymore, so why does it hurt to think of never seeing him again?
I make my way slowly into the compound and through the house, full of bodies and spilt beer. Reaching Gage’s room, I open the door and the first thing I see is a bare leg hanging off the side of the mattress. A woman’s leg, smooth and tanned. For a second I think I’ve walked into the wrong room. Then I see the second woman, slung across Gage’s chest, her bare bottom on display.