Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Her soft voice drew my gaze to hers, and in that second, every responsible thought fled. All that mattered was what Grace wanted. What she needed. What I could give her.
I froze time and got to her side of the car before she could open the door, just because I liked doing it for her. The sounds of crickets resumed as I swung the passenger door open.
Her eyes flared. “Did you do the time stop thing again?”
I nodded and offered my hand to help her out of the Rover. Her balance had been a little off when walking out of the hospital. Not enough for her to notice, but I sure as hell had.
“You don’t have to do that, you know.” Her fingers brushed across mine as she stepped onto the driveway and the simple touch shot straight through me. “I can open my own doors.”
“I want to,” I said, my voice low as I scanned our surroundings and shut the door. Another human family had been slaughtered last night, this one related to one of the feeders at the Domum Alek had sworn to protect, and I wasn’t taking any chances with Grace’s safety. But the scents in the air were the same as every other time I’d visited, and her neighbors were parked in their customary spaces.
Maybe I was turning paranoid in my old age.
“It’s just a door.” She fished her keys out of her purse as we walked up the steps to the door.
“It’s not.” My hand drifted across her lower back as she unlocked the door and she softened at my touch. “In my day, I would have helped you into your carriage, walking with you on my left side so I could be prepared to draw my sword in your defense at any moment. Opening a door is the least of how you deserve to be taken care of, Grace.”
She paused, looking over her shoulder at me with something akin to awe parting her lips. “You make the assumption that I even would have had a carriage in your day,” she teased. “Maybe I would have been a farm girl. A peasant. A servant.”
“You would have been a noble,” I said quietly, running my thumb down her soft cheek. “And if you hadn’t been, I would have made you one.” The words slipped from my mouth before I thought to censor them.
Our eyes locked and her scent changed in a way that made my mouth water at the memory of her taste on my tongue, her hands in my hair, her moans in my ears. My need rose instantly in answer to hers. What was it about this woman I found absolutely impossible to resist? It wasn’t just her passion for life, not anymore.
It was the way she made me feel when she looked at me, like I was someone worth spending what little time she had left with.
I reached around her curved frame and opened the door.
She spun to face me on the porch, then gripped the edges of my jacket and smiled up at me, walking backward and tugging me into the house with her.
“God, I love your smile, Grace.” I shut the door with my boot, and she changed tactics, spreading her hands over my chest and pushing me backward.
I went with it, and the second my back hit the wooden frame, she rose up on her toes and tugged at my jacket, lifting her mouth to mine. A growl of satisfaction rumbled through my chest as I lowered my head and kissed her.
At the first touch of our lips, my vision flickered into thermal, predatory mode, and I slammed my eyes shut and fought for control. The want I had for her, the craving, the attraction, it was nothing compared to the need that crackled down my spine, demanding I claim what my body insisted was mine—all of her.
Claim. Taste.
I filled my hands with her ass at the same moment that I pulled my mouth from hers. “I should go.” My actions were completely at odds with my words as I lifted her against my chest, as though my body already knew what my mind hadn’t grasped—this was where I belonged, wherever she was.
“You should stay.” She buried her hands in my hair and wrapped her legs around my waist.
Breathe. I had to breathe in order to get some semblance of control, but every breath carried the sweet scent of her arousal into my lungs. Never in my life had I wanted someone so badly, needed someone more than my next feed.
I needed to go, to spare her, to protect her, but I couldn’t make my fucking feet work, couldn’t make my arms put her down. Every cell in my body throbbed until I was one relentless, pulsing ache for her body, her blood, for all of her.