Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
The groove between his brows slackens when I shake my head. “No. I’ve just handled a lot of angry boys in my time.” The funny part of my confession is that I’m not including Warren in my statement. He was an upstanding member of our community, the boy no one had a bad word to say about. He only changed when he reached adulthood and our interests started pulling us in different directions. I went to college. He joined the force. I wanted to travel. He didn’t want to leave Portland—ever. We had nothing in common, but both Warren and my beliefs refused to accept that.
Caleb doesn’t look impressed by me underhandedly calling him a child, but he sucks it up. “Fair enough.”
After pulling away the towel, I inspect his wounds. “It doesn’t look too bad. I guess that could have more to do with the fact the cuts reopened instead of them being recently inflicted.” I can’t help the bitchiness in my tone. I’m still annoyed about last week, and don’t get me started on our run-in today, or I’ll dig my nails into the grazes on his hands instead of dabbing them with ointment.
My finger slips off Caleb’s leathery knuckle when he mutters, “You didn’t do anything wrong last week, Jess.”
“Oh, I know.” I sound more confident than I feel. Today has been a weird mixed bag of emotions. I’ve been happy, sad, and confused all at the same time.
When my reply is met with silence, I sneak a peek at Caleb’s face. I’m not shocked when I spot him gawking at me. I could feel the heat of his eyes on me long before I glanced up.
“You thought you wanted something then you didn’t. That’s your prerogative.”
My severely battered ego gets a moment of reprieve when he mutters, “I wanted you, Jess. I just—”
“Remembered you had a wife waiting for you at home?” Hating that my tone is more jealous than bitchy, I run my ointment-sticky hands down my bridesmaid dress then pivot away from Caleb. “That’s her issue to deal with, not mine.”
A surge races through my body when Caleb snatches up my wrist before I can get two steps away from him. It is intense and bristling, and no matter how much I tell myself it should be repulsive, it isn’t.
“Let me go, Caleb.” My tone isn’t close to angry. It sounds more needy than anything.
When Caleb mutters, “No,” in a low, brittle tone, my plan is to spin around and slap his refusal out of his mouth.
That isn’t what happens.
Not even close.
Instead of my open palm connecting with his face, it remains at my side, fighting through hell and fire not to weave it through the strands of his hair standing on their ends. His tone wasn’t low because he’s being distrustful and apologetic. It is because he felt the same zap that roared through my body when his hand circled my wrist, the surge that kick-starts a certain disaster a mere second after my heart demands I shut down our exchange immediately.
Not thinking, I lean closer to him, doubling the bolt of energy streaming between us. A nanosecond after my breath hits his lips, Caleb seals his mouth over mine. When his tongue spears between my lips, my nails rake his scalp as they were fantasizing about only moments ago.
My God, his mouth is sinful. In only a handful of strokes of his tongue, we’re making out like we are not in the middle of an industrial kitchen. It is a hot and heavy embrace that has me panting like I sprinted into his arms instead of attempting to run away from him.
“Not here… can’t… cameras…” My reminder that we could be being watched is separated by big, desperate breaths. My lungs aren’t empty at the thought of our intimate embrace being eyeballed by strangers. I’m incredibly turned on.
Caleb’s kisses have me forgetting everything but my rampant horniness.
“Where?” Caleb breathes out a moan as his lips move from my mouth to my neck.
I angle my head to give him better access before replying, “Anywhere but here.”
His talented mouth has me so blinded with need I don’t realize he’s moving us until his long, efficient strides see my back braced against the wall of the corridor that divides the kitchen from the main hall of the reception area.
He buries his head under my chin and peppers my neck with teasing kisses and bites like he can’t possibly take another step without ravishing me first.
Our embrace is pure chaos, a dangerous mix of selfish needs and desire, but no matter how much I fight, I couldn’t stop it even if my life depended on it. I want his head between my legs again and his cock stuffed inside me. I want him more than my next breath, and the neediness in my voice exposes this when I mutter, “There’s a staff bathroom three doors down.”