Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
But if I don’t tell him until I get to town, I get to surprise him. He’ll probably spank me for it, but hey, we both know how much he loves getting his hands on my ass.
My decision made, I practically run for the closet to pack the rest of my stuff.
“You’ve been ignoring my calls all day.”
I bite my lip, fighting a smile. Someone is cranky. Not that I’m surprised. He’s right—I have been ignoring his calls all day. But only because I didn’t want him to figure out what I was doing. He’s a cop and I’m not a very good liar. Besides, he’d have been able to tell in a heartbeat that I was on the road if we were on the phone.
I texted him this morning to tell him that I was going to be busy prepping for my interview and that I’d call him after it was over. That was right before I left Santa Cruz at ten this morning. It’s now almost four in the afternoon.
“Well, hello to you too, Cranky,” I say.
He growls at me.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I just got home. Why haven’t you been answering my calls?”
“I was busy.”
“Doing what, Mila?”
I stroll up the sidewalk toward his townhouse. It’s nice. The lawn is the size of a postcard—not that I’m surprised. But it’s landscaped and beautiful, with actual rosebushes.
“Just things,” I tease in a singsong voice.
He growls at me again and then laughs. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a fucking brat?” He can’t hide the affection in his voice. “You’re lucky I’m not there right now, or you’d be paying for it.”
“Oh, yeah? And what would you do about, Mister Gregory?”
“Mila.” The warning in his tone sets my panties on fire. God, I love this man. I love pissing him off. I love the way he burns when I do it. I love the way he gets so fucking hot when I call him that. I love everything about him. “I’d have you on your knees choking on my fucking cock,” he growls. “All nine inches shoved down your pretty little throat until you couldn’t breathe.”
I stumble on the sidewalk, nearly running into a poky bush. Damn. Now he’s speaking my language.
“Is that right?” I breathe.
“You know it is, baby.”
“Hey, Roman? Open the door and prove it.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Open the door and prove it.” I lean back against a post on the front porch, one hip cocked to the side, a smirk on my face, knowing damn well I’m asking for trouble.
“Mila, are you—? Jesus, baby. You better not be fucking with me,” he whispers, his voice shaking. “You better be outside or I’m going to fucking drive to Santa Cruz just to spank your ass for giving a dying man hope.”
“Just open the door, Roman.”
A second later, I hear his footsteps pounding through the house.
I bite my lip, fighting not to laugh as my stomach turns flips. If I ever needed proof that this man is crazy about me, he just gave it to me.
Locks turn, and then he practically rips the mahogany door off the hinges in his haste to get it open. His wild hazel eyes meet mine. He’s shirtless, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips, all those gorgeous tattoos on display.
His phone crashes to the ground at his feet.
“Hi, handsome.”
I squeal as he lifts me off my feet, crushing me against his hard chest. His mouth comes down on mine, his kiss scorching. He tastes like mint and man, so damn intoxicating.
Frantic with need, he stumbles backward with me in his arms, his towel slipping precariously in his haste.
The door slams shut behind us, shutting out the world.
His towels falls forgotten on the floor as he presses me back against the door with a force that knocks my breath out. His chest, hard and warm against mine, shudders with urgency when I wrap my hand around his length, all too eager to have my hands on him again.
He kisses me like I'm his lifeline, pouring all his bottled-up emotions into it. His hand travels down my body, tracing the curve of my waist before he grips my ass hard, making me gasp into his mouth.
He chuckles, a low rumble vibrating between us.
He pulls back a fraction to drink in my face under the dim light. "God, Mila... I've missed you,” he murmurs, sweetness tinging his voice.
His gaze drops where I’m touching him. A shudder rips through him at the sight of my hand wrapped around his hard length. But his long fingers grasp my wrist, firmly prying my hand from his cock.
I whimper in protest. I wasn’t nearly finished with him.
One dark brow arches up, the devil lighting his eyes. “Did you think I forgot?” he practically purrs, sliding my down his body until my feet hit the floor. “On your fucking knees, baby.”