Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 160684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 643(@250wpm)___ 536(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 643(@250wpm)___ 536(@300wpm)
He drew her to him, one arm around her lower back, the other around the back of her neck. Then, dipping her slightly, he kissed her. It was a vulnerable position, if he let go, he could drop her. But she just held on and kissed him too.
When he drew away, his lips were twitching.
“Poked yourself in the eye?”
“Shut up,” she muttered.
Effie!
Shut up, Nan!
“Your tits need a heavy-duty, super-strength sports bra?” A chuckle escaped him.
“Shut up!” She pushed at his chest.
“You’d chase me down and tackle me?” This was said in a quieter voice, his face soft. Gentle.
“Shut up,” she whispered back. Darn it. She wiped at her eyes. “Leaking.”
“Little one.” He cupped her cheeks. “I messed up last night. And then I thought I’d messed everything up just before when I lost my temper. And now, you’re giving me so much sweetness I don’t even know what to do with it.”
“Well, you’re doing the same,” she defended.
“I just spanked your ass red.”
“I shouldn’t push. It’s all right if you don’t want to sleep with me. I might kick in my sleep. Damon didn’t say anything, but then again, he kept me plastered to his chest for most of the night, his hands on my ass so I couldn’t move. Maybe he was worried I’d kick. Or I could get all sweaty and stinky between the two of you. That would be gross. Or I might drool. No one likes sleeping with a drooler. Or a snorer. Brooks has never said that I snore, but I might. Oh God. What if I snore?”
He drew her into his chest, kissing the top of her head. “Little one, me not wanting to sleep with you both had nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. You know I can struggle with intimacy. And there’s nothing more intimate than cuddling a woman all night.”
“So you’ve got no problem with sticking your tongue in my pussy, but you draw the line at cuddling?”
He let out a small bark of laughter. “Yep.”
“And they say that women can be illogical. Sheesh.”
“I’m a bit messed up.”
“We’re all messed up.”
“What did Nan say to you before?”
Well. Hell.
She should have realized he’d ask her that. She cleared her throat. “She said don’t rock the boat and that I should be grateful for what anyone would give me.”
His hold on her tightened. “Fuck. Fuck that shit, Effie. I know I’ve already said it, but we need to get her out of your head.”
“Know anyone who can perform an exorcism?” She winced at the poor joke.
“No, and I’m thinking that more than an exorcism, you perhaps need to talk to someone about this. Someone who has the tools to help you extricate her from your brain.”
“I can’t afford therapy.”
“Well, good news for you, I can.”
“Grady—”
“No, Little girl. We’re getting her out of your head for good.”
“And what about you? Will you talk to someone about your shit?” she asked.
“Yes.”
Surprise filled her. “Really?”
“Yeah. You. Or if I can’t talk about it, I’ll hold onto you, eat your pussy, feed you my cock, and fuck you until I forget.”
“Not sure that is proper therapy,” she muttered.
“It’s the sort of therapy I want.”
She opened her mouth.
“But it’s not for you,” he said quickly.
She frowned. “How did you know what I was thinking?”
“I’m as smart as I am handsome, remember?”
“Hmm, too smart for my good, I think.”
He ran his hand over her hair. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know. It just . . . it felt like a rejection.”
He closed his eyes, looking pained. “Fuck, Twinkletoes. I really hate that I made you feel that way.”
“It’s okay.”
Suddenly, his eyes opened, piercing her with his gaze. “It’s not okay and you shouldn’t say it is.”
“But you’re not in charge of how I react to things. You didn’t mean it as a rejection, but I took it as one. I kind of think that’s on me. And my fear of rejection.”
“I think that most people likely have a fear of rejection. And I also think that it is very much on me if I made you feel that way. And now it’s up to me to remedy that.”
“Pretty sure you have.”
“No, Little girl. The way I remedy that is to tell you a bit about why I am the way I am.”
“Oh. Should we finish cooking breakfast first?”
He shook his head. “No, this is the sort of stuff that you get out quick.”
“In case you chicken out.” She nodded. “I do that a lot.”
“Are you calling me a chicken?”
“What? Noooo. Me? I’d never call you a chicken.”
He gave her a small grin. He was teasing.
Jerk.
He brushed her hair behind her ear. “So pretty. Even in the morning, no make-up, hair all a mess, with smudges of mascara.”
“Oh my God!” She put her hands over her face. “I didn’t check to make sure that I looked all right before I came down here. Don’t look!”