Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
My lips curved into a smile. The woman seriously didn’t give a shit that it was nine-thirty on a Monday morning. She was licking the chocolate frosting from the bowl. I crossed the distance between us, then slowly raised the cloth to her forehead, cleaning the chocolate from her skin. “I’m not going to hide you away in my house all season, Liberty. I have no intention of hiding you or our baby.”
“You really want me to go?” she asked as I set the towel on the counter. Then she swept her finger through the bowl again.
“I really want you to be a part of my life. I’m not going to force you to do anything you wouldn’t want, but yeah, I want you.” I gripped the counter on either side of her and blinked. “There. I want you there.” Fuck, I wanted her everywhere.
“Even though I turn your kitchen into a mess and may have done my own laundry today instead of waiting for Mary and Margot tomorrow?” She grinned.
My gaze flicked over the counter, but returned to those green eyes of hers and fell right in. “Yeah. Even though you’re a menace to the general order of this house. I want you there.”
“Then I’ll be there.” She lifted her finger to my chin and dabbed it on my skin, then stared me down.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
I grabbed the towel and wiped the smudge away.
She laughed. “Maybe by the time the baby’s born, you’ll be able to keep it on for ten seconds!”
“Menace.” I abandoned the towel on the counter once more.
“Is there anything that isn’t completely organized in your life?” she asked, tilting her head and holding that icing-smothered finger up like the weapon it was.
“Not if I can help it.”
“You kinda make a girl want to dirty you up,” she teased. “I mean, I bet you even kiss clean, don’t you?” Her eyes danced.
“What? You don’t remember?” I had flashes of memory, and moments I could swear I tasted her on my tongue, but that was it.
“I guess it couldn’t have been that memorable.” She pulled off mock-innocence pretty damn well, even as she lifted her finger to her lips.
I ducked my head and drew that finger into my mouth, licking and sucking the chocolate from her skin with long sweeps of my tongue before releasing it.
She gasped, and her lips parted.
“Still don’t remember?” My voice dropped.
“Nope.” Her eyes dropped to my lips. “Guess you’d better remind me.”
Game on.
I burrowed one hand through the hair at the nape of her neck, grabbed her waist with the other, and kissed her. The first press of our lips was soft but heady, and I would have backed off at that, but she sighed and opened for me.
All that carefully crafted control disappeared.
I slid my tongue between her lips and groaned at the taste of her. Chocolate and mint. Over and over, I swirled my tongue around hers, learning every line of her mouth as I kissed her deeper, harder. Fuck, she tasted good, and it wasn’t just the chocolate. It was Liberty.
When she whimpered, I sucked her tongue into my mouth. She gripped my biceps, then tilted her head, and kissed me with complete and utter abandon.
We weren’t close enough. I needed more. Gripping her ass in my hands, I lifted her to the counter, not giving a shit about the pans that scattered and clanged. Her fingers raked through my hair, and her breasts pressed into my chest as we made out like a couple of teenagers, both desperate for the other. She bit into my lower lip gently, and I hissed as my cock swelled.
I might not have remembered making love to Liberty, but my body sure as hell did. I trailed kisses down her jaw, then set my lips right at the spot where her neck met her shoulder and sucked.
She moaned just like I knew she would. That, I remembered.
Her thighs wrapped around my waist and her ankles locked at the small of my back, her bare heels digging into my muscles with perfect pressure as I ran my tongue up her neck, pausing to kiss and suck wherever she gasped.
Our breaths grew ragged as our mouths met again, our tongues rubbing with blatantly erotic friction. My hand slid up the soft skin of her thigh, and I dipped my thumb just under the hem of those tiny shorts. She rocked her hips toward me, and I nearly lost it.
This right here was what I’d been missing my entire life. No wonder I still dreamt about her. She was the very essence of fantasy. Every moan was genuine. Every reaction unscripted. She was just as turned on as I was, and if I didn’t stop us soon, I’d be inside her before the cakes behind her finished cooling.