Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 15736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 79(@200wpm)___ 63(@250wpm)___ 52(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 15736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 79(@200wpm)___ 63(@250wpm)___ 52(@300wpm)
“I do.” I walk over to her. “Come with me and I’ll let you pick out a bottle.” When I discovered my new house had a main floor wine cellar, I thought it was a waste of space, but now I’m glad I have a pretty good selection of wine.
“Holy cow.” She spins around when we walk into the chilly, darkened room. “How many bottles of wine do you have in here?”
“I lost count.” I take her soft hand in mine and lead her to the last row in the corner. “The white wines are over here.”
“Uh.” My girl bites her pouty bottom lip while she concentrates, and I almost self-combust. She reaches for a bottle and turns to me. “Is this one okay?”
“You can have anything you want.” Anything at all, including my heart.
“Thank you.” She’s so goddamn sweet. I’m tempted to eat her, up but I need to cool my jets and take things slow. I keep telling myself this is a marathon, not a sprint, but my ornery cock refuses to listen. The fucker is ready to tear through my pants.
I somehow make it through our meal without throwing her gorgeous little ass up on the counter and fucking her until she’s too exhausted to resist what’s happening between us.
“I’ll help you with the dishes,” she offers when I get up to put our plates in the sink.
“I’ll do it later.” I’m not going to waste this date with her cleaning my goddamn kitchen. “Would you like to watch a movie?” It’s already ten o’clock, and I should let her go home and get some sleep, but I can’t let her go.
She shocks the shit out of me, answering, “That sounds great. Tomorrow is my day off so I can sleep in.” I’m supposed to be at the store at seven am, but I’ll do without a few hours’ sleep to spend more time with her.
After our movie, it takes every ounce of control I possess to walk her home. She inputs the code to open her door and turns to me. “Thank you for a very nice dinner.”
There’s no way I’m leaving without a kiss. Her soft, pouty lips have been calling to me, and I can’t resist them anymore. “You’re welcome, baby doll.” I cover her sweet lips with mine and groan as her mouth opens for me.
I pull her soft, curvy body against mine and run my tongue along the inside of her mouth. Her tongue shyly follows my lead, and I realize she isn’t very experienced.
Approaching the point of no return, I pull back and lay my forehead against hers. “I want to eat you up,” I whisper against her lips and watch as she does the fish out of water thing again. “But I want to do this right.”
“What is this?” She swallows and steps back to stare into my eyes. My brave little baby doll isn’t some pushover. In that instant, she steals the rest of my heart and soul. I’m fucking hers for the taking, and she has no idea how I feel.
“This is me wooing you.” It’s time to lay my cards on the table and kick my wooing campaign into overdrive.
“Wooing me?” She points at her chest. “Like woo… wooing me?” I can’t keep up with this conversation. As one of three brothers, I’ve never had a girl around, except my mother but she doesn’t count, to learn how a woman’s mind works. “Or do you just want to get me into bed?”
I pull her back against my body and place a soft kiss on one of the little freckles dotting her peaches and cream skin. “I definitely want to get you into bed.” She pushes away, but I hold her tight. “And keep you there for the rest of your life. I figure five or six kids should be a good number for us.”
Her arms go slack around me as she stares up at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Five or six?”
“I’ll settle for four.” I remember my dad’s advice from a long time ago. Always start high and leave room to negotiate.
“Uh…” She steps back. “Why don’t we start with a second date and see where things go from there?” Hell yes! I mentally fist-pump the air.
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you tomorrow, baby doll.” I give her one more quick kiss and head back to my house. I have plans to make.
Chapter 6
Jazzy
The next morning, I’m lying on the sofa watching Roger play with one of the ornaments on our tree when the doorbell rings. I glance down at my old t-shirt and fuzzy pajama pants and groan to myself. Oh well, whoever decided to ring my doorbell at eight o’clock in the morning will just have to deal with my casual look.