Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
“I want my turn,” she breathes out raggedly. Her fingers tightening in my hair, eagerness thick in her voice.
“You want more, Buttons?” I ask, not completely understanding.
“I want to make you come, Ryder.”
“You can do that another time,” I tell her with a crooked grin. “Tonight is all about you, baby. What we just shared—trust me—I enjoyed even more than you did.”
“I doubt that,” she mutters. Then, she gives me a frown. “That's not really fair to you.”
“Trust me, it’s more than fair.”
“Ryder—”
“Tillie, I need you to know, this thing starting between us, is real. I’m not letting it go, sweetheart. What we’re sharing is special. I don't want to rush anything with you because I plan on taking my time with you. I plan on what we have lasting.”
She looks like she wants to argue, so I pull her in for a soft kiss and she melts into me. She gives me what I need, but when we pull apart, she looks at me, searching my face. “I don’t know if you could tell, but I really liked what we just did, Ryder.”
My lips twitch. “Yeah, I could tell.”
“I want more. I don’t want to wait.”
“I don’t either baby, but when we make love, I want your complete trust in me. I don’t have that yet and that means I need to work to get you to that point. We have time because I’m not going anywhere. I just need your promise that you will truly give us a chance.”
“Sometimes,” she whispers, “when I look at you, I feel like I lose myself.”
“That’s good, sweetheart.”
“It doesn’t feel good—not really. It feels…”
“What?”
“Scary,” she breathes.
“That’s where you need to trust me and understand that I’m having the same feelings.”
“What if I’m never able to believe that?”
“Oh, I’ll get you there,” I vow—praying like fuck that I find a way to do it.
Tillie
I come awake slowly, feeling warm, lazy, and more relaxed than I can ever remember being before. That’s probably because I’m cradled against the warm chest of Ryder Monroe. Needless to say, I didn’t make him leave my bed and the house last night. It might have been smarter if I had, but I didn’t have it in me. I loved everything he did to me. I wanted more. I still do. I want the freedom to touch him, to make him come. I said before I was tired of fighting the attraction pulling me to him, but now, I’m extremely tired.
I want him.
It’s really that simple.
I blink my eyes to focus and find Ryder smiling down at me. A woman could get addicted to that look on his face. “Morning,” I mumble.
His face goes soft as he leans down to give me a sweet kiss. I think it was meant to be just a quick peck. Instead, he nibbles at my lips, sucking the bottom one into his mouth and caressing it with his tongue until the kiss deepens and he pulls me into his body.
I go willingly. My body instinctively curves into his, seeking the pleasure that I know I can find in his arms. When we break apart, both of us are breathless. It’s a struggle to pull air into my lungs and I lick my lips still tasting his and simultaneously wishing they were back on mine.
“That beats the hell out of waking up in bed at the training facility and being greeted by Slater’s ugly mug,” he murmurs.
“Slater?” I question, relaxing back into his arms and resting my head on his shoulder.
“Teammate,” he says, his voice gentle and distracted. I watch him underneath my lashes as he twirls my hair around his fingers, seemingly engrossed in the action. It’s a simple thing but it makes me feel warm all over and something else… happy.
It should be said that I’ve liked my life. As miserable as I was in high school, the total opposite was true after I got out. I discovered I like who I am. I don’t need fake best friends beating down any self-esteem I try to gather. I’m my own worst enemy, I don’t need others. Therefore, I began seeing that although I’d never fit into the homecoming queen mode, I still had a lot to offer. Even Keith helped me see that. We were never well matched, but he helped me feel beautiful at times—especially in the beginning. I liked my life and I truthfully liked who I became. So, I was… happy. The happiness I feel right now, though? It’s totally different. It feels like a long-lost missing piece of me has been found. What the piece is exactly, I couldn’t say. I just know it feels damn good.
“Oh,” I respond. “When do you have to go back?”
I don’t miss the grimace that moves over his features. “I’m due back tomorrow, but I’m not ready to leave you.”