Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
I remove the other boot, peel off the sock, and give that foot the same treatment. Her muscles loosen, her breath deepens.
She shifts, wriggling slightly as she reaches for the waistband of her tights. But I catch her hands in mine, guiding them away with a gentle firmness.
“No.” My gaze locks onto hers. “Mine.”
Her breath stutters. Her fingers relax.
I slide my hands up her thighs, the heat from her skin warm through her tights. I reach the elastic band at her hips and hook my fingers under it then slowly roll them down, inch by inch.
The fabric whispers against her skin as she wiggles and lifts herself so I can roll them down her hips, her thighs, the tender curve above her knee.
“Declan…” Just my name. Barely a whisper. Full of want.
I finally get the tights to her ankles and lift one foot out at a time. She’s silky, warm, and so alive under my palms. I can’t resist trailing my fingertips back up her calves, memorizing every curve and shiver.
Emery
Declan Sterling on his knees looking up at me with an expression saying all of his Christmas wishes came true at once pushes every thought and worry out of my mind. His touch is reverent too, roughened hands gently dragging against my calves, up to my hips.
“You’re stunning.” He presses a kiss to my knee.
The compliment warms me all over. Not that I think I’m a troll. I put my whole face on the Internet every week. But after I told my ex I couldn’t have kids, he treated me like something defective and couldn’t break up with me fast enough. This morning, I told Declan and tonight here he is, no judgment or shaming. Just naked appreciation written all over his face.
And God, the way he looks at me now—like I’m something he’d never take for granted—hits deeper than any praise I’ve ever been given. Maybe he’s a great actor. But he seems so genuine. And heck, from what I’ve seen, he wouldn’t have any trouble getting a different woman to come home with him every night of the week if that’s what he really wanted.
His hands skim up my thighs again, slower this time, almost cautious, giving me time to pull away if I want. He stands and cups my cheeks, his thumbs brushing my skin as if he’s memorizing the angles of my face. The tenderness from this usually gruff man almost undoes me.
There’s no doubt Declan wants me here with him.
I lean in and kiss him, wrapping my arms around his neck, wanting to be as close as possible. He drops his hands to my bra, pushing the straps off my shoulders, then reaches for the hooks in the back.
He pulls away and looks in my eyes, his eyebrows pinching together, his gaze asking permission. I reach behind me and unhook my bra, letting it fall slowly.
Declan’s gaze immediately drops and his eyes widen with desire.
I can’t help letting out a small huff of laughter. “You’re going to give me a big head if you keep staring—”
“Your breasts are perfect.” He cups them gently, his thumbs brushing over my nipples. “So perfect, I want to sketch you and tattoo the image on my skin, but I don’t think I’d do you justice.”
That’s probably the sweetest thing a tattoo artist—heck, anyone—could say to a woman. Definitely the most romantic compliment anyone’s given me.
“I like you so much,” I admit. “I’d consider allowing you to sketch me topless and trust me, that’s not something I ever thought I’d say.”
He rumbles with laughter. “I like the sound of that, Emery.”
“You’ll need something to remember me by.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I wish I could swallow them whole.
Declan’s gaze drills into me. “I won’t need a drawing to remember you if you leave. You’re hard to forget.”
If? We both know I’ll leave when I’m done with my investigation. And Declan’s bound to this town. His whole family’s history is rooted here. He wouldn’t leave and I’d never ask him to.
My heart throbs painfully.
I can work from anywhere, though.
I lean in and kiss him to erase the awkwardness. He responds immediately, cupping the back of my head while our desperate lips slide together. His teeth graze my bottom lip, stealing my breath.
His mouth covers mine again, deeper this time, the hesitation burning off all at once. No more hovering like he’s afraid to break me. His hands tighten at my waist and he yanks me closer.
The kiss goes on and on, messy and sweet. I gasp as he slides his hands to my thighs, grips and lifts me. The room tilts. My back sinks into the soft mattress and Declan follows, bracing himself over me, his dark eyes focused and intent.
I run my hands over his shoulders, careful to avoid any of the tattoos that seem to move or shift. Those are the dangerous ones. His skin warms my chilly hands. An intimacy that shouldn’t exist this fast between us, but does. Every moment with Declan seems to be natural and meant to be.