Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 66652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Other things that consisted of vanilla sex inside of our bed, but it was the best damn thing I’d felt since the last time I’d been inside of her.
“Tide?”
I looked down at her sprawled half on, half off, my chest.
“Yeah?” I asked, running my hand down her peach-fuzz head.
She hated it, but I liked it, so I did it anyway, even though she wanted to nut punch me for it.
“Did you know that guy that hurt me is dead?” she asked. “My old boss told me. And I just thought to mention it tonight.”
I paused, wondering how to word it.
“You didn’t do it, did you?” she asked.
I thought about it, wondering if I should tell her the truth or not.
I hadn’t killed him outright, no. But I had told his president that if he didn’t finish it, I would.
He had.
But I was just as responsible for it… wasn’t I?
“Just tell me that I’m not going to be raising a child alone,” she ordered. “I don’t think I can.”
My lips quirked. “No. You won’t be raising the baby alone.”
Then she shot me with another surprise. “I feel like less of a woman without boobs. I want them back.”
I moved until I was hovering over her, my eyes blazing.
“You don’t have to have boobs to be a woman, baby.” I moved my hand down the length of her body until I was cupping her belly. My hand was splayed wide, and still I couldn’t cover the entirety anymore. “You couldn’t do this right here if you weren’t.”
She hiccuped. “I feel so unsexy now.”
I moved until my cock was pressed against her sex, which was wet still from my previous usage.
“Does this feel like a man that doesn’t find you sexy?” I asked. “Because, I’ll tell you now, I’ve wanted you even when you were bent over the toilet puking. No amount of boobs, hair, or waistline is going to take away the amount that I need you.”
Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears when she said, “I just want them back.”
I cupped her face and leaned down, being very sure not to put any weight on her.
“If you want boobs, I’ll give you boobs,” I promised. “I have plenty of money in the bank for them.”
She sighed, looking relieved, as if she’d been prepared for a fight.
“I’ll wait until we’re done having kids, then you can give me a tummy tuck, too,” she teased.
I was already shaking my head. “Now that, I won’t give you. The thought of me getting you pregnant is a big turn-on for me. Seeing the evidence of my forever claim on you? That’ll keep me going for years.”
“You’re such a weirdo.” She shook her head.
I shrugged, unrepentant. “I am what I am. And you married me.”
“I sure did.” She fisted my hair. Then yanked. “Now get off of me. I have to pee.”
EPILOGUE
Remember when I asked your opinion? Yeah, me neither.
-Coreline to Tide
CORELINE
I walked across the bar toward where my man was animatedly talking to the bartender, Banger.
He had his hands spread wide, and he was emphasizing the size of something that I had a feeling had to do with something I would rather not hear about.
Yet, I was headed toward him anyway.
I wasn’t a fan of his emergency room stories. They were gory and turned my stomach.
Yet, he liked talking about them, and most of the time, I’d listen.
Sadly, he’d been telling everyone about this particular case he had for days. I had a feeling, by the time he was done talking to everyone about it, I’d have heard the story in its entirety.
“Wow, you have a great set of tits.”
I looked at the man that’d slurred those words and said, “Thanks. My husband bought them for me as a birthday present last year.”
I kept going, knowing he hadn’t been expecting those words to come out of my mouth. I’m sure he’d expected some sort of reaction from me, but it wasn’t gratitude.
I sidled around a group of men next, very aware of how close I was to them, but unable to do anything about it because the bar was so packed today.
And, like I’d expected but hadn’t wanted to prepare for, a man reached out and ran his finger down the length of my arm.
Another from the group reached out and tried to touch my hair, but I sidestepped him and said, “Watch it. My husband likes to fight.”
The man’s eyes gleamed.
“I could take your husband.”
I doubted it.
My husband may have surgeon’s hands, but he’d already proved, over and over again, that he wasn’t afraid to fight.
He also wasn’t afraid to wind up in jail.
“Sorry, but you won’t be finding out.” I stepped away.
But they followed me.
I cursed myself for taking the ‘property of Rook’ cut off my shoulders earlier.
But it’d been so damned hot in here.