Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 95898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
“Hey! Why did you turn it off?” I playfully scold Travis as he places the remote on the nightstand. “That was at my favorite part.”
“I’m fast-forwarding to get to the honeymoon,” he says, giving me a smirk over his shoulder.
“You’ve had your honeymoon,” I retort, raising a brow.
He slips underneath the warm covers, finds me, and pulls me into his body. A smile plays on his lips. “I still can't believe you played that Def Leppard song as we walked down the aisle together.”
“What? What’s wrong with the instrumental of Hysteria?”
He shakes his head at me in mock disapproval, his eyes full of playfulness. “Nothing. It’s just so non-traditional.”
“Since when have we ever done anything traditional?”
“True that, and I wouldn’t have you any other way,” he says as his hand skirts over my ribs. I squeal out in protest, “Travis Jackson! You stop.”
He starts to chuckle and rolls over the top of me, ignoring me. “Shh…quiet,” he admonishes as his elbows come to rest on either side of my shoulders. “You’re gonna wake up the house.”
“Trav, you are up to no good,” I whisper-yell, and make a halfhearted attempt to shove him off me, but he doesn’t budge. “Get off me. You’re squishing me.” He nips and kisses his way up the length of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.
When his lips caress mine, I let out a helpless whimper. “You really should stop.” The way I say the word stop means don’t stop, and he knows it. “You like placing me in these predicaments, don't you?”
He grins over my lips, and then says in a low, husky voice, “You like my pre-dick-aments.”
I roll my eyes at his corny joke, and moan when he rests his hard cock between my legs. Yes…yes, I do like his pre-dick-aments. I easily give in and wrap my arms around his waist, pulling him into me. “These predicaments always have consequences, though.”
“Mmm,” he whispers. “The more consequences, the better.” God, I love this man. Today is our five-year wedding anniversary. Every year, he plays our wedding ceremony on our big screen TV in our bedroom, and every time after that, he makes wild, passionate love to me.
My hands drift to his boxers, and I slip my fingers underneath his waistband.
“Uh-uh, I have different plans,” he says as he sits up, grabbing each of my wrists, and then peels off my shirt. When he’s done, he places my hands above my head, and locks them in place with one hand.
I watch as he reaches over and opens his nightstand drawer to get something. My brows furrow in question. When I see that he has a large strip of fabric, I immediately go on red alert and tense. Memories of Nick slam into me without warning, waylaying any growing passion we had building between us. I never know when these flashbacks are going to strike. They always hit without warning.
I shake my head incessantly. “Travis, no.” Panic lines my voice.
“Shh, sweetheart. Do you trust me?” I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“I do.” I trust this man with every last cell in my body. His eyes bore into mine with nothing but love and tenderness, and I relax my tensed muscles immediately.
A Cheshire grin then spreads across his lips. “The only implement I plan using on you this morning is attached to me, so relax.”
A small laugh escapes me. I love his humor, and just like that, my anxiety is gone. It’s taken quite a few years to be able to work through all the bad. It was especially difficult when I had to stand trial against my father and Nick, but Travis and the guys were there beside me every step of the way. My father was sentenced to a looney bin for life. Nick's sentence should've been forever, but it's not. With his contacts, he could be out in another decade or less, but Travis has forbid me to worry about it. He has his own set of men with eyes and ears watching our back. I shudder to think what the world would’ve been like had Blyss been able to breech the walls of the facility.
“You know I would never hurt you,” he reassures me, cutting into my thoughts. He lays his broad, muscular chest over mine and gives me a scorching kiss before he pulls away, leaving me breathless, wanton, and fully focused on him.
Fire burns in his eyes as he takes the fabric and ties my wrists to the bed-frame above my head. When he’s done, I think we’re going to get down to business, but he doesn’t. He holds up a black piece of fabric before me, and dangles it in front of my face.
I shake my head profusely. “I’ve let you tie me up, Travis. That’s enough.”