Total pages in book: 196
Estimated words: 188002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 940(@200wpm)___ 752(@250wpm)___ 627(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 188002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 940(@200wpm)___ 752(@250wpm)___ 627(@300wpm)
“We’re enjoying the moment. Right?”
“Right.” I picture myself introducing him to my parents. This is Blue, who I enjoy long moments with…
He gazes across the park, his eyes a shade darker than they were when we were kissing. I wish I hadn’t questioned his motives.
“Piper, I live moment to moment. I don’t mean to sound like a dick, but you can either take it or leave it. Don’t analyze it. I like you. I want to spend time with you. But that’s all I got right now.”
I let his words sink in, wondering where the ladybug myth is now. Regardless, I have to appreciate his honesty, even if it makes my heart ache.
Here, in my own moment, I’m a girl who’s crazy about a guy. Of course I want the dates and the title and the commitment and the hope of endless tomorrows together. But I still wouldn’t trade these random moments with him for anything.
Pressing my lips to his cheek, I whisper, “I’ll take it.”
He grabs the back of my neck and pulls me to him. The deep, demanding kiss is back, this time with a vengeance. The tightness of his grip beneath my hair and the rapture of his mouth on mine feels as if he wants to inhale me, swallow me, consume and own me. I don’t fight it because I feel the same way.
I want this man to be mine. His lips, his touch, his lust, his smile, his love. I want it all, and I’ll wait a lifetime for him if that’s what it takes. Call it lust or love. Call it whatever you want. I’m in deep. I’m drowning in him, and no lifeboat is coming to save me.
The longer we kiss, the more my body and heart want. His tongue rolling around mine stirs up a surge of desire that travels through my veins like liquid fire. My breasts ache to be touched and sucked by his amazing lips, and my thighs burn to be wrapped around his waist.
He groans into my mouth when I touch his cheek and run my hand through his hair, and then he pulls away with a heavy breath. “We better stop, or I’m going to drag you under this table like the dog did that cookie.”
I laugh, but I’m not sure I’d be able to stop him if he did just that.
“Keep laughin’, Ladybug,” he warns with a naughty, sexy grin as he lights up a cigarette. “I’ll show you I ain’t kidding.”
Smiling, I reach for my latte and finish it off, inwardly composing myself before I lose all control and pull him under the table myself. His lethal combination of hot and cute has managed to steal my virginity and sexual shyness in a matter of days, and it’s got my head spinning and my heart pounding and my panties melting.
“So… did you live around here… before?” I ask, hoping to get our minds off under-the-table shenanigans.
“I lived in New Jersey.”
“Is that where your family is?”
“Most of them.”
“Do you think you’ll go back there?”
He shrugs. “I’ll wander through, but I won’t live there again.”
“What made you come to New Hampshire?”
“I wanted to see the leaves in the fall.”
Ah, a man after my own heart. I look up at the trees surrounding us, gauging their color. “They’ll start to change soon. Probably in about three weeks.” As I talk, he moves his hand under the back of my shirt and stays there, warm against my spine. “Did you really just walk to New England when you left Jersey two years ago?”
“No. I traveled all the way to California, hung out in some cool places, then moved to the next place.”
“You walked all the way to the West Coast?” I ask in disbelief.
“No.” He laughs. “Sometimes I hopped a bus or a train, or I hitchhiked.”
“Oh. Don’t you ever miss your family?”
“Sure, sometimes. If I pass a payphone, I drop them a line. Let them know I’m still alive.”
“They must worry about you, no?”
“I think they’re used to it by now. They’re not the worrying types.”
“My mom would never get used to that. She’s ready to call a search party if I’m half an hour late from work.”
“Yeah, well, mine has had years of practice.”
I wonder when he plans to move on from here. The question sits on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t let it out. I swallow it down, and the words scurry to that place inside me where insecurity, doubt, and denial all huddle together, afraid to come out.
“How ‘bout you?” he asks. “Have you always lived here?”
“Yes. My grandparents and parents were all born here. It’s home.”
“You ever think about leaving?”
“No, not really. I wouldn’t mind going somewhere else for a vacation, but I’ve never had the urge to move away.”
“Do you think that’s true contentment or just staying where you’re comfortable?”