Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
He sighed, the sound rumbling in his chest. I tilted up my head, looking at him. His hair was in disarray, his scruff heavy. I thought of how it felt brushing against my skin. Rough, yet soft. His lips pursed as he slept, and I recalled the possession of his mouth on mine. How those lips sucked at my breasts, nipped at my neck, and devoured mine. Like a man starving and I was his last meal.
For the first time in my life, I felt sexy. Desirable. He woke something in me I didn’t know existed.
I wanted more.
I carefully eased off his chest, studying him. The soft light behind me enabled me to see his muscles and sculpted chest. His arms were thick and strong, his neck corded. He was handsome in an unusual way. His brother, Carolina’s dad, was good-looking in a softer way. Dante was all angles and shadows, with a high forehead, strong nose and chin, and a long face. I still caught a flash of the dimples high on his cheeks when he smiled a certain way.
I laid my hand on his chest, feeling the strength beneath my fingers. He was solid and vibrant. Gently, I traced a finger along his sternum, feeling his muscles shift under my touch. I paused where the blanket lay draped over his stomach. Glancing up, I froze when I realized his eyes were open, his intense gaze focused on me. “If you keep going, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
I glanced down, not surprised to see the blanket tenting. I slipped my hand under the covers, wrapping it around him. He was surprisingly soft to touch. Steel under velvet. He groaned as I stroked him, a low hiss escaping his mouth.
“Little Bee, you are playing with fire.”
“Maybe I want to get burned.” I shifted upward so our mouths were close. “If I asked, would you do that again?”
“Do what again?” he asked with a small smile.
“Take me?”
He cupped the back of my head, his large hand warm on my scalp. “Say it, Brianna. Tell me what you want.”
“I want you inside me again.”
He groaned, and I smiled as I pressed my mouth to his, knowing exactly how to get him going. “If you think you can possibly do that, old man.”
In a second, I was under him, his mouth ravishing mine.
I got him going, all right.
I traced his chest, our legs entwined. I rubbed my calf along his, and he chuckled. “Careful, little girl. You must be sore, and I have no self-control around you.”
Dawn was breaking, the sunlight beginning to glimmer. It was supposed to be a better day today, weather-wise. I planned on baking more cookies, wanting to stay busy until the cake supplies arrived.
I began to pull away, and he tightened his grip. “No, stay. Just try not to tempt me with your sexy ways.”
It was my turn to chuckle. “I’m not sexy.”
“Yes, you are. The way you move, the artless mannerisms you have. Your curves. They drive me to distraction.”
“My curves,” I repeated. “How polite.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m aware because I’m short, I’m chubby. Some would say fat. It’s not attractive to most men.”
“I’m not most men. And you’re not fat.”
I shrugged.
He was quiet for a moment. “Is that why you only bought one swimsuit? You’re self-conscious?”
“That was the only one I was comfortable in, yes.”
He flung back the covers and stood. I tried not to ogle him, but I failed. With the sun behind him, he looked like a god. A sexy, intense god.
He pulled me with him and crossed the room, sitting on a wide chair. He pulled me to his lap, so my back was to his chest, and he looped his calves around mine. “Look,” he said.
I directed my gaze to where he pointed, and I grimaced, attempting to turn my head. He grasped my chin. “No. Look, Little Bee. Look with me.”
I met his eyes in the full-length mirror, not wanting to focus on the image of us. He tutted. “Look.”
With a huff of air, I did. He sat behind me, a statue of muscle and power. I was a powder puff.
He put his arm around me, spreading his hand wide on my stomach. “Look how soft you are. How pale and delicate.”
I was pale. He was tanned from years in the sun, a golden hue that set him apart from those who lived in the city. He was healthy and strong.
“You look better.”
“I look different. Not better. I love how you look. Pretty, feminine, your skin like ivory. Except here.” He turned my head and kissed the end of my nose. “The sun got you there. And the longer you’re here, you will be kissed all over by the sun. I look forward to discovering the freckles.”
He turned my head back, entwining our hands and lifting my foot up with his. “All of you is tiny. One of your little hands fits into my palm, yet they are strong and create such delicious art. Your feet are half the size of mine, but I bet they outwalk me every day. Your body suits you perfectly, and whoever says differently is an idiot. Your size doesn’t indicate the strength you carry in here.” He touched my chest. “Bees are small, but they are one of the most industrious creatures on earth. Remember that.”