Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 157032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Fucking, love making, all while making declarations of love to each other. I don’t know how many times he’s told me how badly he missed me.
Or how badly I needed to hear it.
This is Heaven.
“Okay, we better go then.” He sighs as he gets up.
“We?” I ask.
He frowns. “Ash… I’m not spending one more night without you in my arms. It’s taken me thirty-three years to feel this way about someone and I’m done with sleeping alone. I’ll be sleeping with you from now on. Every night.”
I smile as I look at his beautiful face and run my fingers through his dark stubble. “Cam.” I pause as I try to articulate my thoughts. “I just want to do it right this time.”
He frowns as he comes up to rest on his elbow. “What do you mean?”
“We’ve done everything the wrong way around. We fucked in Vegas before we even exchanged names.”
He laughs and pulls me down over him. “That’s because you’re a sex maniac, Ashley Tucker, my all night fucker.” He bites me and I giggle as I try to escape.
I pull out of his arms and sit up to look at him. “I’m serious, Cam. I want to date. I want to get to know you without the constant power struggle between us. I want to have fun like we did in New York. That was the best weekend of my life.”
He smiles softly and runs his thumb across my bottom lip. “Did I tell you I loved you today?” he whispers as his eyes search mine.
I smirk. “Only a few thousand times.”
He smiles and kisses me quickly. “Let’s go home to our son,” he breathes as he gets out of bed. “I want my whole family sleeping in the same house.”
You know those crazy bitches that look at their boyfriends all doe-eyed and shit?
I’m one of them.
I’ve officially crossed to the other side.
Owen and I are standing in line as Cameron organizes our luggage at the airport. We’re en route to New York to see Andrew’s mother. Cameron is in his navy suit, having come straight from work. With his dark, wavy hair, he is epitome of male perfection. He’s cultured, sexy, funny, and such a wonderful father. I mean, what else is there to want in a man?
I’ve died and gone to playboy heaven and I’m still having trouble believing that he’s mine—that he’s actually Owen’s father—that somehow the fucking universe got its shit together and delivered for once.
Cameron organized the plane tickets and the hotel, He packed Owen’s suitcase this morning before he went to work. He hired a car at the other end so that I could drive to Andrew’s.
He’s thought of everything. Cameron is so capable that it kind of freaks me out. I’ve always been the adult in my other relationships, but he’s automatically taken on that role. I’m like the annoying second kid or something. I don’t have to think because I know he’s already thought of everything. He ushers us through the line.
“Obtenez votre sac à dos, Owe.”
Translation: Get your back pack, Owen.
Owen frowns as he watches Cam, and Cam points to his bag.
“Obtenez votre sac à dos, Owen,” Cameron repeats a second time.
Owen finally figures out what he is saying and picks up his backpack, and I smirk. Cam is teaching Owie French, constantly flicking between languages with him, but Owen isn’t picking it up as easy as Cam would like. It’s funny watching him repeat things up to ten times. We walk through the terminal and then into the lounge. “Let’s get a drink at the bar, Bloss,” he says as he looks around with his hand on my behind. “Do you want a glass of red?”
I smile. “Okay.”
He looks around and then catches me smiling adoringly at him. He frowns in question.
“Thank you so much for organizing everything. You’ve no idea how much it means to me.”
He leans in and kisses me as he holds my jaw in his hand. “Anything for my girl.” Our eyes lock and I feel my heart skip a beat.
Oh, I love this man.
“Yuck,” Owen groans. “Stop kissing already.”
I giggle and Cameron points at him. “Watch your manners.” He widens his eyes at his son.
I glance down at Owen and run my fingers through his unruly hair. “Your hair is out of control, mister.” I frown.
“Curls get the girls,” Owen replies casually.
“What?” I frown.
“Dad said curls get the girls.”
I glance up at Cameron and smirk. “Did he now?”
“Yeah, because the lady in the coffee shop likes Dad’s hair so he doesn’t have to pay for coffee. That’s when he told me that curls get the girls.”
I smirk and shake my head at Cameron.
Cameron frowns and flicks the peak on Owen’s cap. “You have a big mouth.”
Owen screws up his face and smiles cheekily at his father.