Total pages in book: 183
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
We are already walking toward the elevator when Lori asks, “Does he have your direct cellphone number?”
I stop walking. “Good question.” I kiss her. “Let me run back and make sure.” Eager to get my wife alone, and be home, I hurry back to the door, and open it to find Smith leaning on the window, his hands pressed to the glass, head low, torment rolling off of him. It hits me then that he must feel responsible. He was protecting her.
He shoves off the glass and turns to look at me. “They walked in and took her. You didn’t do this.” I tell him.
“I should have taken her underground. I felt it in my bones. I ignored it.”
“She wouldn’t have let you,” I say.
“If I decided to take her underground, I wouldn’t have given her an option any more than they did, only now it’s them, not me.”
I don’t say more. I can’t say more. I get it. I know what he feels. It’s a small piece of what I have felt with Lori’s attacks. “You have my number?”
“Yes. I have your number.”
We stand there several beats, staring at each other and I turn and exit. Lori is waiting for me at the door, and I grab her, pull her to me and say, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she whispers, and then I don’t care where we are. My mouth slants over hers, and I’m kissing her, hard and deep, possessiveness in every lick, stroke, and taste. I need to feel my wife. I need to know she’s alive and well. And I need out of my head, to lose myself in every part of her. I tear my mouth from hers and lace my fingers with hers. “Let’s go home.”
Chapter eighty-two
Cole
Lori and I slide into the hired car waiting on us just outside of Ashley’s building, and neither of us speak, not with the driver present. For me, the silence is both welcome and torture at the same time. There’s an explosion brewing in me and only when Lori covers my hand on my leg do I realize how hard I’m squeezing it. I look at her and her green eyes cut through the shadows, understanding in their depths. She knows that I’m torturing myself right now. She knows that I’m blaming myself. No one in this world has ever known me well enough to know what I’m feeling. There was a period in my life, not so long ago, that I didn’t want anyone to know me this well.
By the time we’re in the thankfully empty elevator, the edge I’d felt in the car is growing sharper, while my thoughts are not. I pull Lori to me, her back to my front, willing this feeling under control. I don’t go dark often. I don’t let myself ever have that little control, but the past two weeks have hit one of my hotspots, caring about people that can end up gone. Lori doesn’t let me escape. She twists in my arms. “Cole—”
I cup her head and pull her mouth to mine. “Don’t talk.” I kiss her with a deep stroke of my tongue, and I feel her shock, her temporary surprise before she moans and melts into me, but she knows. She sees what I’m doing. I don’t want to talk. I want to fix things. I want Ashley back. I want to keep her safe. I want to get this edge off and that means I need my wife, now.
The elevator dings and I take her hand, leading her from the car, toward our apartment. I don’t look at her. I don’t want those pretty, all-knowing eyes to compel me to talk. I open the door and lead us inside and the minute I pull Lori into our apartment, my mouth is on hers again, and it’s not a gentle kiss. It’s a deep, intense, passion that is all about taking, burying, fucking. I want and need one thing right now and it all comes back to her. The taste of her, the sound of her pleasure, the heat of her body next to mine.
I let her know. With my mouth, my hands. The rough, impatient way I tug at her clothes, and peel away my jacket, but outside of unzipping my pants, I’m focused on her. I want her naked and that’s where this goes. Her in her high heels, thigh highs and nothing else. Me turning her to the door, pressing her against it and smacking her backside. My fingers caressing her sex, tweaking her nipple, sinking inside her, and then finally, I turn her to face me again. I’m not even sure which one of us pulls my cock from my pants, but it’s not soon enough. I drag her leg to my hip and I press into the slick heat of her body that is absolute-fucking-heaven. I don’t even think about waiting. I don’t want to go slow or be gentle. I drive into her, thrusting hard and fast. She gasps and closes her fingers around my shirt sleeves, while I lean in and kiss her, a deep, possessive taking that has me lifting her.