Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 72154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Tonight, I was happy that my balcony was so close to Parker’s, because that meant all I had to do to get over to his side was climb over the waist-high railing.
Or, I would have had Parker not met me halfway and lifted me over using two really huge hands on my hips.
The moment that I was on his side of the balcony, I pushed past him, stepped through the door and around Carmen, then dove for his bed.
It smelled like him.
All yummy and rawr.
I was sure those two things should be bottled up and then made into a candle. Someone would make a million dollars just off of me, because I wouldn’t be able to resist the smell or the candle.
Parker didn’t say another word as I made myself comfortable on his bed—the warm side just like he liked to do in mine. Or I would have had he not followed me into the bed, flipped off the light, then bodily lifted me up and planted me on the other side of him.
But, it didn’t matter.
Mostly because I was still pressed up to his side—and no part of my body in any way, shape, or form was even remotely cold.
Not at all.
I heard Janie and Rafe expressing their apparent horror, but I didn’t stay awake long enough to laugh at their plight.
Nope.
I think it was physically impossible to do much of anything when you’re curled around a man much bigger than yourself. One who I was quickly coming to have feelings for. One who, in the three days since he told me his worst misdeed in life, I still couldn’t stop thinking about him.
I still didn’t know what I would do.
Frankly, I didn’t really want to think about it.
But I knew that it felt right when I was in Parker’s arms.
I also knew that, when the time came, I’d figure it out. Until then, I’d bask in the blissful ignorance and pretend that it wasn’t anywhere near as serious as it was.
Chapter 13
Why are there upper and lowercase letters, but not numbers? Sometimes I want to write loud numbers, and I can’t do that since there aren’t any uppercase numbers.
-Text from Kayla to Parker
Parker
“So why did your parents get divorced?” Kayla turned her eyes to me.
We were lying in bed the next morning.
The alarm clock that I set every night to wake me up at five for my run and workout had been turned off. However, neither one of us had moved.
I physically wouldn’t until she got up off of me.
There was no man in the world who would be capable of leaving her in the bed and go to work out. I’d do that tomorrow. Maybe.
“You want to know the lie my mom told people or the actual truth?” I asked.
She seemed to consider it for a moment as she ran her fingers over my chest hair, first smoothing it this way, then smoothing it that.
“Well, how about you start with the lie your mother told and then tell me the truth,” she suggested.
My grin kicked up at one corner.
How did I know she would choose that?
She was always thinking outside the box, and I loved that about her.
I sighed and turned to my side, taking her with me. Her back was to my front, her sweet, supple ass pressed almost to my crotch. If she scooted back an inch, she’d feel the column of my cock—and just how hard I was for her.
Her head was resting on my bicep, and she had both of her hands wrapped around my forearm.
I practically itched to yank her panties down and shove two fingers straight into her delicious pussy.
“My mother’s lie went like this: my father expressed his willingness to cheat, and they decided to divorce.”
“That’s kind of boring,” Kayla admitted.
I snorted.
“It’s not that far from the truth, honestly. What happened was that my father decided about a year into his marriage to my mother that he wanted another wife.”
Kayla’s brow went up. “Oh really?”
I nodded. “The problem my mom had with that was not that he wanted another wife—which, technically, she did have a problem with—but that he still wanted to keep her as his wife too. He wanted two wives because, apparently, he had needs that weren’t being met by her alone.”
She rolled over in my arms, and her face came into view. The glow from the streetlight at my back lit up her entire face, and the look on that face made me smile.
Kayla’s eyes were as big as saucers.
“Your father is a sister wife guy?”
My brows went up. “Sister wife?”
“There’s a TV show on TLC. Sister Wives…or something like that,” she said. “How many wives does he have?”
“Legally? One. Illegally—he has three others.”
“Your father has four wives,” she repeated, sounding in awe.
I nodded.
“That’s…that’s actually kind of cool.” She paused. “In an interesting sort of way. I have never in my life known anyone who has multiple wives. Do they act like they’re all married? Are there any like ménage things going on?”