Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
What I like most is that I have Brayden all to myself. We’re free to do what we want, even if that means lounging around and being lazy. That’s not something either of us gets to indulge in very often. It’s a real treat to not have a schedule for the day.
If the skies don’t clear, we can make popcorn, curl up on the couch, and watch movies. If the sun comes out, we can explore the forest and lake. Maybe relax in the hot tub again. Arousal stirs in my core as I remember the way he tongued me, getting me off before scooping me up and carrying me into the water where we had sex.
The guy is insatiable, and I absolutely love it.
Since he’s still stretched out beside me, snoring soundly, I slip quietly from the bed before grabbing a sweatshirt and yoga pants and padding to the kitchen to make breakfast. I’m starving, and I’d bet money that Brayden is, too.
I pull out everything I need to make pancakes and bacon before getting to work. There’s something relaxing about the sound of the rain plinking against the vast expanse of windows. It doesn’t take long before I’m humming to myself.
This kitchen is like a chef’s dream. Everything looks to be top of the line. The stove is massive and has an industrial appearance to it. Once the griddle is heated, I pour batter onto the non-stick surface and wait for it to bubble.
It’s funny—since I’ll be graduating in the spring, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about my future. Those thoughts have always centered on my career and the accounting job waiting for me at my father’s company. Boys have come and gone from my life with such regularity that I never considered someone might actually stick around after graduation. Brayden is the first person I could imagine being with long term, which seems crazy and yet...there’s something about him. Something about the way we are together. It makes me think that we could be going strong years down the road.
I shake my head; I’m getting way ahead of myself. This must be what relationship happiness feels like.
Brayden chooses that moment to stumble into the kitchen. His eyes are barely cracked open, and his hair is mussed. I’m tempted to run my fingers through the short strands. He didn’t bother putting on anything other than boxers that hug his lean hips and thighs.
“What are you doing up so early?” he grumbles, voice all low and sexy. It strums something deep inside, nearly making me forget about the pancakes I’m in the process of flipping.
I glance at the clock. “It’s after nine. I thought you might be hungry.”
“I woke up craving something, but it’s not food,” he says, padding over and wrapping his arms around me before pressing a kiss against the column of my neck.
His words make my belly hollow out as need throbs to life in my core. “How about we eat pancakes and then talk about the other.” My voice comes out sounding breathless, even to my own ears.
“I’m not interested in talking,” he growls against my neck. “I’m interested in fucking.”
Oh god...
The way Brayden talks is enough to start a veritable inferno in my panties. As he nibbles his way from my throat to my mouth, I realize that I need to push him away or breakfast will end up a burnt disaster, and I’ve put in way too much effort for that to happen. Plus, I get the feeling we’ll need our sustenance for the rest of the day. Whether or not the skies clear.
Once I’ve piled the pancakes on the plate and pulled the perfectly crisped bacon from the oven, we sit down and eat. Or, I should say that Brayden tugs me onto his lap, and we share one plate until both our bellies are full. Only after every bite has been consumed does he push the dish away before wrapping both hands around the small of my waist and hoisting me onto the long stretch of table as if I weigh nothing at all.
His fingers trail from my hips to my thighs before nudging them open. The heated look he shoots me is enough to send my belly into freefall. “Why are you wearing so much clothing?”
My mouth turns cottony. “It was cold when I got out of bed.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep you warm.” With that, he pulls the sweatshirt over my head and tugs the stretchy yoga pants down my hips and thighs until I’m completely naked.
His hands stroke over my inner thighs, spreading my legs impossibly wide as his gaze stays locked on my core. I’ve never been embarrassed or shy about my body. I’ve been an athlete my entire life. I’m focused on how strong and fast I am rather than the physical attributes men find appealing. I’m well aware that my breasts are small, and my thighs are more muscular than most girls. To have Brayden stare so blatantly sets my nerves on edge. No one has ever studied me with such intensity. Especially while stretched out on the dining room table like I’m a main course to be feasted on.