Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Like ask her to never leave.
She pulls out the pizza and slides it onto the platter she had laid out. She moves quickly through the kitchen, getting us plates and silverware as I walk to the counter. She opens the back door just as I lean into the counter, and then she shuts the door just as quickly. “Too cold, and I don’t feel like putting on pants.”
I grin. “I would protest that.”
“I know you would,” she says, but then I notice something on her thigh. A bruise. I move in closer and notice that it’s not a bruise. It’s like a burn. She goes to turn and runs right into me. “Lordy, what are you doing!”
I point to the spot. “What is that?”
She looks where I’m pointing and then shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“Did he do that to you?” I ask, and I don’t even know why. I want him to disappear, just go away, so I don’t ever have to be reminded that he touched her. “Since I know every curve, dip, and roll of your body, I know for a fact that mark wasn’t there. So I can only assume he did it.”
Her eyes widen before they go hooded, her lips tipping up. “I have a lot to say to that statement, but I can promise you, he didn’t do this to me.” She rubs the spot. “I really don’t know what that is. Is it a burn?” She bends funny to try to get a good look, and then she pops back up, looking at me. “I sat on my hair straightener, but I didn’t think it got me that bad.”
I exhale harshly as she reaches out, taking me by the waistband of my shorts. She pulls me to her and then wraps her arms around my waist.
“I hate that he touched you. It’d be different if I hadn’t seen you two together,” I admit, kissing her top lip.
“I’m with who I want to be with.”
“I know that, but he touched you.”
She sighs. “I faked orgasms with him, D’Artagnan,” she whispers against my lips. “He doesn’t even compare, and he never knew how to get me going the way you do.”
“You said he was safe,” I say, moving my hands up her arms and wrapping them loosely around her.
“Yeah, because nothing would change,” she admits, and I can feel her heart beating. “I’d live the same boring life, have the same boring sex, and never ever experience the fear of being destroyed by someone.”
I drop my head to hers, kissing her nose. “I won’t destroy you.”
A small bubble of laughter leaves her lips. “Dart, you already have,” she says softly, holding my gaze. “In a really good way that scares me more than anything in the world because I know I am going to fall face first in love with you.”
While her words have my lips curving and my heart skipping a beat, they also inform me she doesn’t love me yet. I don’t know how she doesn’t; I’m a damn good time, and she sure as hell loves what I can do between her legs. She couldn’t fake an orgasm with me if she tried. I’d know instantly, and I wouldn’t let up until she was squealing my name. But she doesn’t love me. Interesting. I almost ask, but I don’t know if I want the answer. She ghosted me for a reason. Fear. And while I trust she won’t do it again, I don’t know why she doesn’t love me yet. But then, there’s that tattoo.
I’m confused as fuck.
“You don’t love me?” I ask, and I’m not even the least bit surprised. I don’t tend to think before I speak.
Something flashes in her eyes as her hands pause at my chest. “What?”
“You said you could fall in love with me, like you haven’t, and I don’t understand.”
Her lips curve. “Dart, we hardly know each other, just that we’re explosive.”
“That’s not true,” I say, holding her gaze and not allowing her to look away. “The knowing each other part. The sex part is unquestionably explosive, but you know everything that matters.”
She laughs, but then she stops when she realizes I’m serious. Her eyes search mine, and my stomach clenches. Silence stretches between us, and her breath quickens. I don’t have to say the words for her to know them. “Dart, really?”
I swallow hard, and talk about being exposed. “Tennessee, I fell in love with you in that hotel room.”
Her breath catches as a blush creeps up her neck to her cheeks. “You did?”
“I did,” I confess with more confidence. “That’s why I kept texting. Usually when I’m ghosted, I don’t care. I move on. But I couldn’t move on from you.”
“But you didn’t even know me.”
“What else do I need to know?” I ask, meaning it. “You have a very unhealthy obsession with your namesake, which is why you were masturbating with an orange dildo.” Laughter bubbles out of her, and I grin widely at her. “You love your mom and dad since you talk about them often. You’re great at your job, and I knew that the moment I saw you working earlier. But the most important thing about you that I know is that you make me so unbelievably happy, I couldn’t help but fall deeply in love with you.”