 by Hope Ford.jpg)
Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
A wife with one foot out the door.
Together, in a second chance romance. I’m completely in love with my husband. And he takes care of my needs...
as long as they’re financial or physical. Anything more is too much to ask. I know that while I might have his name, I don’t have his heart.
It’s almost like he keeps me in a very specific WIFE.
He only opens that box when we’re home alone, anything else would make me too much a part of his life. Even though I love him, I can’t live like this anymore.
I don’t want to, but I ask him for a divorce. Instead of agreeing to the separation, he tries to convince me to stay. I want nothing more than to be his wife in every way possible, but I won’t settle for anything less than his whole heart. The real question is, can he truly love me the way I need him to or is it time for me to walk away? USA Today bestselling author Hope Ford brings you a standalone fourth book in the Whiskey Men series. If you love reading billionaire, age gap, second chance, and small-town romance, then you’ll love Beau and Natalie’s story.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter 1
Natalie
I’m surrounded by the heat from Beau’s body, and I want to burrow deeper into him, but I don’t dare. I hope that he stays in bed a little longer. My leg is over his, and my arm is over his chest, while my face is buried into his neck. It’s like I’ve completely wrapped myself around him sometime in the night, and now I don’t want to move.
It’s in our bedroom where he’s most open to any kind of intimacy. If I start to move or shift in any way, he’ll find a reason to get out of bed and start his day.
So I lie here quietly, taking small breaths, making no sudden movements, and relishing the feel of him next to me.
I’m just hoping to get a few minutes of feeling his body next to mine. This is when I feel the closest to him. This is one of the reasons that I stay. It’s this side of him, behind closed doors when it’s just the two of us, that I feel loved by my husband. Any other time, I feel like I’m a roommate or even worse, sometimes a nuisance.
I take a deep breath, inhaling the woodsy scent of his aftershave that he put on after his shower last night. I try to commit everything to memory. The way he feels, the soft noises he makes in his sleep, the feel of his stubble against my cheek.
Can I really give this up? Later today, when I’m wide awake and am looking at the full picture, I know I will need to leave him. It’s time. Hell, it’s way past time. But when we’re like this and with his hand on my back, holding me to him like he can’t let me go, like he doesn’t want to let me go, well, I’m not so sure my plan to leave is the right thing to do.
I know the instant he wakes up because his body becomes tense, and he seems to hold his breath. I’m not ready for this to end. I need one last time with him, even though I know it’s shitty. I know it makes me an ass to ask him to make love to me when I know I’m asking him for a divorce later today, but I need to feel his love one more time. I need to get lost in his touch so I can carry it with me.
I slide my hand down his chest, past his belly and to the waistband of his underwear. Goosebumps rise on his arms, and when I dip my hand into his shorts, he grunts out my name. “Nat… argh.”
I smile against his neck and kiss him until he sucks in a breath and grips me tighter. If this is going to be our last time together, I want to make it good.
I kiss across his shoulder and down his chest. Going to my knees, I pull at his shorts, and he lifts his hips so I can pull them down. I kiss his navel, pressing my tongue to his hot skin before going down. I move over him until I’m sitting on my knees between his legs, and for the first time, I look into his eyes. “Morning,” I tell him with my sleep-laden voice.
He smiles at me. “And what a good morning, too.”
I look at the clock on the nightstand and take note that he has awhile before he has to leave for work. “You need to rush out of here?”
His head falls back, and he moans as my hands roam over his abdomen. “No. I got time… I’ll make time.”
I press my lips to him, savoring the taste of his skin.
My emotions surge, but I don’t relent. The early light is glaring through the curtains, and my body is on full display. Any other time, I’d be self-conscious, but knowing this will most likely be our last time together, I don't let myself feel any insecurities. I refuse to. Instead, I try to get lost in the moment and the way he makes me feel.
I need more, and I need it all. But at the same time, I don't want to rush things.
Beau reaches down between us and pulls at my lace panties. His thumb trails back and forth across my lower belly, causing me to suck in a gulp of air. “You like these panties?”
I shrug, gyrating my hips slowly across his belly. “Yes. Do you like them?”
He grunts his answer. “Yeah, but I would like them better off.”
I am about to lift up to take them off when both his hands grip my hips to hold me in place. “No, I got it.”
He grabs the lace in his hands and with a steady pull, he rips the string of my panties on first my right side and then my left. He grabs the shreds of material and tosses them on the floor. He reaches for the nightstand, and it takes everything in me to hold back. I want to tell him I’m on the pill, but he already knows that. I want to tell him that just once, I want to feel him bare, but it’s nothing that he hasn’t heard from me before. He doesn’t want children, and I didn’t find that out until after our wedding. But I did discover the lengths he’d go to make sure we don’t have any. He will do whatever’s necessary, even wearing a condom every time we’re together since my birth control isn’t one hundred percent effective.