Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 71625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Two.
My bag had dropped out of the truck earlier into a puddle of muddy water, and because of that, I was wearing a pair of my panties and one of Steel’s shirts…and nothing else.
All of my other belongings were now being washed and dried—promised to be returned by morning—by the hotels extremely high-priced laundry service department.
“Are you sure?” He pushed.
“I’m fine.”
I wasn’t fine, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to take Steel’s blanket when it was fifty fucking degrees in here.
Dammit.
Without argument, he turned off the light.
Then I heard him stripping his pants off, the belt clinking against the ground as he dropped them, and then the bed squeaking as he climbed under the covers.
I licked my lips, wondering if I’d ever work up the courage to touch the man.
I’ve seen the appreciative looks he’d send me, but since he apparently thought I still needed time, he was giving me the space that he must have thought I needed.
Space that I didn’t need.
Not at all.
Not anymore, anyway.
Not after knowing Steel Cross for the time that I had.
I wanted him.
I liked how he took care of my kids. I liked how he took care of me—even when he tried to act inconspicuous as he did. And I liked him.
A lot.
He made me laugh. He humored me when I did things I probably shouldn’t want to do—like this trip with him to the hurricane-affected area for example. He also took care of me even when I didn’t think I needed to be taken care of.
He was an all-around great guy.
But he also had a streak of bad boy in him.
He was a president of a motorcycle club. He was brash, hard, and unforgiving.
I’d watched him take down a criminal—right in the middle of our street—who had been trying to break into my car.
Seriously, I loved the good guy part of Steel Cross, I truly did. But I needed the bad boy in him. I needed him with the power of a thousand suns.
In my vagina.
Soon.
I just had to find a way to let him know that.
And, as my eyes closed, and I thought about anything but the freezing temperature of the room around me, I realized that I would have to flat out tell him that I wanted him. Otherwise, he wouldn’t make the move.
He’d actually said he’d have dated me in a different lifetime, before our lives had gotten so complicated, on our drive down.
Maybe I needed to show him that we didn’t have to make it more complicated than it already was.
Maybe we should uncomplicate things.
Shivering even harder than I already was at that thought, I closed my eyes and felt my eyes grow heavy.
I didn’t fully drop off into sleep.
Couldn’t. Not with my teeth clattering together every couple of seconds, and chills racing over my body making the bed springs underneath me squeak.
My dreams, however, were beautiful.
I closed my eyes and drifted, thinking of him.
Somehow, I found myself warm despite my knowing I shouldn’t be.
I didn’t care how. Didn’t honestly care why. I just cared that I was deliciously warm, and was finally able to get to sleep.
***
Hours later, my eyes opened.
A sound had woken me…what had it been?
Another sound, a bump from the room toward my head, sounded again.
The bed.
A bed was hitting the wall that our bed was on.
Our bed?
That’s when I noticed that I was no longer alone in my bed.
I had a distinctly male body practically underneath me.
My leg was thrown over one strong thigh. My head was resting on the strong, slightly hairy chest, with a strong heartbeat beneath. My panty-clad pussy was pressed up against a distinctly male hip. One of my arms was crossed over a very hard belly, and finally, a strong fist was tangled in my unruly hair.
I was in Steel’s bed. Laying half on top of Steel’s very hard body with my own. Holy shit.
My knee was about halfway across his hips, resting lightly just above where the waistband of his underwear rested.
I moved my calf slightly to the right, bringing my foot to rest directly between his thighs on the bed. It also meant that my calf was now pressing against his dick.
His dick that was currently soft, yet still hard…if that made any sense at all.
I could feel it there, and all of a sudden, I wished I had nerve endings in my calf like I did in my fingers.
I tried to feel his cock. Tried to imagine what it looked like.
And then I shifted.
I couldn’t help it.
I brought my leg farther down until it—his cock—rested against the side of it.
Then, ever so slowly, I moved my hand as if I was still asleep. It came to a rest right above his boxer briefs and stilled.
Two fingers were resting on the band itself, and the other three were resting on his skin. Skin that was covered in a soft trail of hair that led the way to where I most wanted my fingers.