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)
“Yes. And we’re back to, I promised to save you, remember?”
Now, he’s not talking about the plane. “What if I don’t want to be saved?”
“Then you can save me, and I’ll protect you.”
“Save you? From what?”
“Apparently, a lot of things I didn’t know I needed to be saved from. And is that normal? Not for me, sweetheart,” he leans in and presses his cheek to mine, his hands suddenly branding my hips, “but then, everything with you is different.”
The plane tremors again and he leans back. “Go buckle up until we’re past the turbulence.”
“Protecting me again?”
He winks. “Always, and that’s not a bad thing.” He turns me toward the walkway again, and leans in. “You just don’t know that yet.” He then smacks my ass hard enough that I yelp in surprise, and he laughs while I hurry toward our seats, with his burning hot gaze on my butt cheek.
I sit down, buckle my seatbelt, and squeeze my legs together, because apparently, that man’s hand on my ass has me aroused. Everything about him arouses me but it’s more than that. So much more with him, but that isn’t where my head is. My head is with his words: You can save me. How can a man like Cole Brooks need to be saved? But then I think about his past and everything I feel when he kisses me and touches me, really think about it. He kisses me like I’m the only woman he has ever wanted. He kisses me like I’m everything and everyone, and there is no one else. He kisses me like he doesn’t care if I know how completely he wants me, in fact he wants me to know. Because Cole is fearless in all he does. It feels good to be kissed like that. It feels really good to be kissed like that by Cole Brooks.
Cole reappears and sits down next to me. “Now I’m minty fresh, too,” he says.
I unbuckle, stand up and walk to stand in front of him. His hands come down on my hips, and one of mine settles on his face. “Cole, I—”
“You what?”
“This,” I say, leaning in and pressing my lips to his, my tongue boldly licking into his mouth. He rewards me with a low rough sound, cupping my head in that controlling, possessive, sexy way he does, and he kisses me back. My knee goes to the cushion beside him, and I’m half on and half off his lap, but I don’t hold back. I sink into the connection, drinking him in, letting him taste everything I feel, and don’t dare name or even try to understand.
It’s a long drugging kiss that leaves us both breathing hard. “What was that for?” he asks.
“That was me kissing you like you kiss me.”
“How do I kiss you, Lori?”
There are a million reasons I shouldn’t say what comes next with a man like Cole Brooks, but it’s honest. It’s how he kisses me. It’s how I want to kiss him. “Without limits.”
The plane jolts and Cole pulls me into his lap, and instead of feeling fear, I laugh, we laugh together, and for the first time in years, I feel limitless. And for the first time since I met Cole, I dare to believe that we might really be limitless.
Chapter thirty-six
Cole
The internet on the plane is down, which means I can’t look forward to what awaits us in LA until we actually land. That occurs at five in the morning and while we taxi, my phone pings with messages, while Lori scans the news on hers for any updates we might need.
The first message on my phone is from our Hollywood starlet: My father wants you to call him and my home is a nightmare. I snuck out to the Bel-Air hotel. I’m registered as June Miller. Ask for me there. Your assistant booked your room here as well.
The next message is from Ashley: Starlet at Bel-Air hotel. Now you are too. Warning. There is a Hollywood charity event/party there tonight with your diva movie star hosting.
She’s included the address.
“It’s hard to be thorough on my phone,” Lori says, “but I don’t see much new on the internet related to this case. There are just a lot of tributes from stars and fans for the life lost. The police are being tight-lipped.”
“Of course they are,” I say. “Easier to manipulate us during questioning if we don’t know the facts.”
“Did you ask that security company to look into a suicide history for the deceased?”
“I did not,” I say, “but I am now,” I add, texting Royce: Suicide history of deceased. Him or relations.
He replies immediately, obviously not in bed asleep, with a simple: On it.
The plane pulls to a halt in the hangar and Lori and I unbuckle. The minute we’re both on our feet, I pull Lori to me and kiss her, in her own words, thoroughly, right up until she moans softly, and I know if I don’t stop, I won’t. “What was that for?” she asks, repeating my earlier question.