Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 180510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 903(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 602(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 180510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 903(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 602(@300wpm)
Colten tugs my arm a little until I face him. He takes a tiny step closer leaving no more steps to take. His hand slides up my bare arm, and I feel my resolve slipping. I don’t like that feeling.
I need the anger.
The resentment.
The grudge.
Without it, I am too vulnerable.
“You killed the best part of me,” I whisper.
His other hand cups my cheek. “I set it free.”
My head eases side to side. “I hate you.”
“If only it were that easy.” He tips my head up and ducks his, pausing a breath from my lips.
Certain feelings, deep emotions—the haunting kind—can’t be outrun. Colten has been the unshakable shadow of my existence since the day I met him.
“If only …” I echo him.
We kiss.
And it’s … purgatory. It’s poison. So why has my soul never felt more at home? What is wrong with me?
He’s only feeding the hate and the resentment, even while my hands thread through his hair.
While I lean into his body.
While I let him back me into a slat wall of coats, coveralls, and hats.
“Josephine Watts,” he mumbles, kissing down my neck, his hands palming my ass. “Jo … se … phine … Watts …”
I don’t care how much agony his words hold; the grudge is eternal.
Hate sex was invented for this exact situation. Yes, my mind skips ahead a few steps to sex. It’s not that I’ve been waiting seventeen years to have sex with Colten Mosley. Well, that’s eighty percent true.
Kicking my heart to the curb to wait for me at a safe distance from Colten, I reach for his belt, giving it a hard tug to unbuckle it. He lifts his head from the crook of my neck.
He’s going to stop me. That’s his MO. I can see it in his eyes.
I blow out a long breath, unable to hide my frustration. “Some things never change,” I murmur attempting to escape the confines of his much larger body pinning me to the wall.
His head cocks to the side as he smirks. “You don’t know anything about me.” He tosses my words right back at me while his gaze slides down my face to my chest. In the next breath, his fingers flick the button of my shorts, and he eases down the zipper.
Curling my fingers around the hem of his shirt, I work it up his torso. He grabs it with one hand and shrugs it off, letting it fall to the floor beside us while smashing his mouth to mine again.
Yeah … I definitely waited seventeen years to have sex with Colten Mosley.
My hands return to his pants, unbuttoning them and giving the waist a slight nudge, sending them a few inches over his ass to his thick thighs.
His tongue makes a slow stroke against mine while his right hand sneaks inside my panties, palming my ass again.
Gone are the days of the cautious teenager, scared to death of my father. Where was this Colten when I needed him?
This changes nothing. This doesn’t erase the jilted lover I’ve been for seventeen years. Still, it makes me deliriously happy to get the one thing he never gave me before we ended.
He spins me around, pressing my chest to a thick winter jacket. Hunching behind me, his fingers curl into my shorts and panties, slowly sliding them down my legs; his lips press to the curve of my ass while he hums.
“You are fucking perfection,” he murmurs.
He’s …
So intoxicating.
So sexy.
So everything.
My eyes close, teeth digging into my bottom lip when I draw in a sharp breath and arch my back. He nudges my legs apart until my shorts and panties stop them, and he grips my ass with his hands, his lips skipping over my flesh, teasing me.
“Colten?” Becca says, opening the garage door two feet to our left.
History has a way of repeating itself. It’s not a cliche. It’s true.
Colten abandons me.
Abandons. Me!
He yanks up his jeans in less than a second and snags his shirt from the floor.
“What is it, Mom?” he asks her from beneath his shirt as he tugs it over his head.
My hands dive for my shorts and panties and wiggle them over my hips with my back to Becca. I cannot turn around.
Ever.
A few seconds of silence blankets the room. Why is it silent? Are they talking in sign language? Is it a stare-off? Are they waiting for me to swallow the last drop of my pride and turn to face them?
“I’m going to bed. I wanted to say goodbye to Josie. Do you two need a few more minutes?”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, my face wrinkles into a grimace. A few more minutes? Is she serious?
“Maybe another ten?”
I whip around when Colten makes his stupid request. The floor becomes the most fascinating part of the garage. Giving it all my attention, I shuffle my feet to Becca and glance up only when I have her in a hug. “I should get going. It was great seeing you. Have a safe trip home.”