Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 95080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
“Stop, or you’ll get attacked in the car.”
“The car sounds good,” I husked.
He scoffed.
I instantly scowled at him because I knew exactly what he was going to say.
“So lemme get this straight: now doing it in the car is fine, but five years ago—”
“Five years ago you didn’t want to date me, did you?”
He squinted like he had to think.
“Nolan?” I teased him, using his last name.
“No, I didn’t.”
I grunted.
“Fine. I was a jackass back then.”
“And?”
“And now I’m not. Now I’m serious.”
“Which is why now you get to have sex with me in your car.”
His laughter was deep and husky and a little dirty, and I liked it a lot.
I was going to say something else, but he walked away then, and as he had my hand, I went with him. He laced my fingers with his and led me through the crowd, past everyone else and out into the afternoon sun. A car was parked next to the curb, right in front.
“Get in.”
“Where did you get this?”
“I borrowed it from the impound yard, courtesy of the chief.”
“Isn’t that bad?”
He glared at me. “Get in the car.”
I opened the door and slipped into the passenger seat, but once he got in, he didn’t immediately start the car.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” he answered flatly.
But he wasn’t. Something was wrong. The silence became oppressive after a few minutes, but then he reached for me and put his hand on the side of my face. I climbed over the emergency brake and fell into his arms. His mouth was hot on mine, and I kissed him and kissed him until I was out of breath. When I pulled back to look at him, he told me we had to go. He started the car as I rolled off him.
“Why did you do that, Trace?”
“I wanted to.”
“And what else?”
“You looked like you needed me.”
“I always need you.” He took my hand, laced his fingers with mine, and held tight.
When he pulled up to a motel, I understood. “I thought you were taking me somewhere romantic,” I teased him.
“This’ll be romantic,” he grumbled.
“I thought everything was filled up because of the cheese festival.”
“Not the by-the-night places.”
I started laughing.
“What?”
“Your idea of romance is a little twisted, Nolan.”
“Do you care?”
“No,” I replied honestly. I unlocked the door and opened it.
He got out fast and came around the car, and when he stepped in front of me, I reached up and slid my arms around his neck.
“What’s wrong?” I asked him.
“I want this to be over,” he said, his voice catching. “I want to go home, and I want you to fall in love with me. I’m frantic for my life to start and terrified that it won’t.”
“It will,” I promised, drew him close, and thrust my tongue inside his mouth. I was thorough, forceful, all hunger and heat as I tasted him, dragging a ragged moan deep from the man’s chest.
He wanted me. It was there in the way he dug his fingers into my ass, wrapping my legs around his hips, and the way he coiled his arms tight around my back.
“Tracy.” He cried my name as I writhed in his hold.
He was so mine. All I had to do was say the words. No matter what he said, whatever protest he could come up with, the truth was here between us, and it was surrender. I would stop running from him, he would stop hiding from me, and we would truly begin. I couldn’t remember ever wanting anything or anyone more.
I was vaguely aware of moving inside, carried and clutched tight to his chest, the jingle of keys and locks clicking beside me before I was put on my feet. When he tried to pull away, I caught his face in my hands and pulled him back down to me. He pressed his lips to the side of my neck and opened them on my skin. My knees barely held me up.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you the truth,” he croaked out, unbuttoning his overcoat and then letting me slide it off his shoulders.
“I’m sorry I didn’t really see you,” I soothed him, draping the lovely piece of outerwear over a chair beside the small desk.
“But you do now.”
“I do,” I assured him. I unzipped my jacket and dropped it onto the seat of the same chair.
“Maybe we should talk about—”
“No,” I insisted, chuckling as I toed off my shoes before going to work on my belt. “I don’t wanna talk. Take off your clothes.”
He raised one eyebrow. “I’m not that easy.”
“The hell you’re not,” I teased, leaning close and kissing his throat, chin, along his jawline, and finally his ear, flicking my tongue over his lobe.
“Oh God.” He groaned like he was dying.
“Strip now,” I commanded, tugging on his bottom lip, nibbling, trying to get him moving.