Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 51744 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51744 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
The sight of her, half dressed, legs spread, pussy dripping and ready for me.
My dick is dripping and my balls are aching to get in her.
Not yet. She’ll come on my mouth first.
It’s my turn to drop to my knees and worship her.
“Chance!” she cries the first time I lick up her slit.
Her taste bursts on my tongue and I hold her nice and wide so I can feast.
“You solved your case, sugar. Good girls get rewarded.”
I don’t say more. The only sounds in the room as I eat her out is her ragged breathing and my name as she moans.
She comes quickly when I sink two fingers into her wet heat and find her g-spot. She writhes and moans and I can’t take another second to get inside her.
I pop to my feet, put my hands on her thighs and push them wide, then sink in.
One hard thrust and I’m home.
“Chance!”
Her pussy clenches around me and I know I won’t last. I fuck her hard. Deep. Fast. Until her walls flutter around me. Until my balls draw up. Until we’re both hoarse with satisfaction.
I reach between us and rub her clit, pushing her over the edge. I follow, filling her with my come. Marking her as mine in a way I’ve never done before.
I pull out, watch my seed slip from her as I flip her onto her stomach. She’s half off the bed and I give her ass a gentle spank.
“We’re not done, sugar. Just getting started.”
My dick’s slick with our combined fluids and I’m still hard. I fill her again, this time my passage so slick from coming inside her.
“Chance,” she moans, gripping the bedding.
“That’s right, say my name. You’re mine, Avery. Nothing will take you from me again.”
I prove that to her for hours. Giving her orgasm after orgasm until she’s asleep in my bed.
Where she belongs. Sated. Sweaty and filled with my seed.
Avery Marsh is fucking mine.
19
AVERY
* * *
I awake, awash in a cold sweat.
For a moment, I don’t know where I am, until I hear a soft snore next to me.
Chance. I’m in Chance’s bed.
Chance, whose name has been cleared.
Chance, who I never stopped loving after all these years.
Chance…
Who has a son.
A freaking son.
How can I tell him about Grady? How can I not tell him about Grady?
I know why I awoke in a cold sweat. Only one thing makes me wake up so abruptly, brushing my arms against the chill.
I was dreaming about Grady’s birth. It was hell. Pure hell, and I nearly lost my life, and I did lose my uterus. But when I was finally in the clear, and my mother placed my son in my arms…
God, it was all worth it.
It was immediate, the recognition of Chance in my son. Our son.
Now I’m with Chance. In his big bed. In the huge Bridger ranch house. I used to imagine waking up beside him. Of this house being ours. Having kids.
Until…
The letter. Mom’s inheritance.
But now? I’m in Chance’s bed. It seems he wants a relationship where I stay here, in his arms, in his house.
We even have a child….except Chance doesn’t know the child exists.
Still, nothing is as it seems. We know each other, the youthful versions of ourselves. But there are years, well over a decade, of time where we didn’t know anything about each other.
Chance is an open book. He’s been here this whole time. Working the land that looks exactly the same as when I left.
Me? I’m different. I’m not the same, naive girl I once was. I have raised a boy. Lived my life. And now? I’m the one with secrets. With the one and only thing that is a part of both of us. It should bring us together, but my stomach churns with doubt. I think Grady just might tear us apart.
Not Grady himself. Chance will adore his son. He’ll want to be a part of his life.
But he’ll be so angry. Angry that I kept him from his child.
Now that I’m with Chance—and I know he didn’t write that letter—I don’t want to let him go.
My mother told me it was best to not tell him about Grady, and I believed her. I was a scared teenager, looking to her for guidance and support. What did I know about being a mom? How could I raise a child who was so perfect and beautiful but at the same time a haunting memory of the man who didn’t want me?
But we did it together. Mom and I both went to college, arranging our classes so that someone was always home with Grady.
And eventually, I moved forward. I never forgot Chance Bridger—how could I when every day I saw the miniature version of him?—but I agreed with my mother. Grady was mine. Chance had dumped me in the cruelest way possible, and he didn’t deserve to know his son. I even worried that if he knew, he might try to take him from me.