Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
“Once, and by the end of the night, he’d made it clear my mind wasn’t what he was interested in.”
“I can’t say I’m sorry.”
Playfully, I slapped at his chest. “That’s not nice.”
He chuckled, and it rumbled through him. “His loss, the asshole, and my gain.” After another long pause, he asked, “No regrets?”
“Absolutely none. You?”
He rolled to his side and faced me. “None. In fact, I’m feeling like round two if you’re up to it. And it’s okay if you’re not. You might be too sore.”
“I’m pretty sure you’ll take good care of me,” I said before nipping at his bottom lip.
“Oh, baby, you know I will.”
It wasn’t long before he was sliding into the wetness he so easily created. And then I just completely lost myself in him. All thoughts fluttered away as I sailed on sensations alone.
TWENTY-FOUR
Sunshine
There was so much to remember from my night with Mitchell. But one of the best parts was waking up in his arms. With my back to his chest and his head nuzzled in the cradle of my neck, I didn’t want to move.
I indulged myself and lay there, memorizing the feel of him and his scent next to me. But the storm had passed. The blessed silence was a reminder that we had calm now. Since our phones didn’t get reception, I didn’t know what today’s forecast would bring. We would need to leave before pressing our luck. The last thing I wanted was for Zoe to worry that we wouldn’t return either.
As I tried to slip out of his hold, he tightened his arms around me. Then he used one hand to lift my top leg and pushed inside of me again. The movement was like butter, considering I’d had all night for my body to adjust to his girth.
A moan escaped my parted lips. No need to protest as he took his time getting us both where we wanted to go. I didn’t want to leave the bubble we’d created any more than he did. The pressure built little by little until it flooded my body with endorphins better than any rush I could imagine.
Later, when his breaths were slow and steady, I forced myself up. I got dressed, because out of the warmth of his body, I felt the cold. Yet I couldn’t stop the smile on my mouth as I gathered the remnants of my parents’ things worth saving.
I was looking at a mason jar Mom had used for one of my old homeschool science projects when I heard a noise.
We were in the middle of nowhere and every noise warranted a listen. Even in the snow, I expected to hear sounds of wildlife, but that wasn’t what I heard. I’d lived here most of my life and knew what footsteps sounded like in all seasons.
The fire had been almost nonexistent, so I had my coat on. I eased toward the opening, still covered by the heavy woven drape. I reached above and found hidden in the branches Mom’s weapon of choice, a tomahawk axe given to her by her father. The grip was covered in tanned animal skin from a kill that had probably fed their family all winter.
Without warning to my visitor, I burst through the opening, axe held high, and came face-to-face with my tormentors. They had sent me letters through their lawyer for months. But now, as they stood dumbfounded, I wondered what I’d feared. I lowered the weapon, and they sneered at me.
“Look, Bill, she’s all grown up,” the non-Bill intruder said.
Bill leered at me. “Ain’t she?”
“Get off my property,” I barked, annoyed as the fear adrenaline drained from me.
“That’s the thing. Didn’t you get our letters the lawyer sent?”
“You’re trespassing on our land,” Bill said. “Saw the smoke and thought you might be back.”
Why hadn’t I considered that?
“We let your mama live here on account of your father. But now that she’s gone, it’s time for you to go,” the other said.
Bill eyed me. “Unless you got some other way to pay.”
My grip tightened on the weapon in my hand as I noticed the rifles slung on their shoulders, something I should have taken notice of from the beginning. I’d lived away from home for too long. I’d lost the edge Mom and Dad had instilled in me. But I didn’t have to worry.
Mitchell stepped through the doorway, gun raised. It looked like a Glock, but I wasn’t a gun enthusiast. I just knew it wasn’t a pistol and was a semiautomatic of some kind.
I almost laughed at the sight of the pair, surprised to find I wasn’t as alone and vulnerable as they imagined. Their eyes were wide as one went to shift his rifle.
“I wouldn’t do that. I’ll have one between your eyes and be aiming to fire off another at your brother if you so much as move another inch,” Mitchell commanded like he was a sergeant in the armed forces.