Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 104327 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104327 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Why? Why was he doing it? And, like… why?
Then… then there were lots and lots of seconds where I didn’t think much of anything. Regardless of what my brain would have chosen, had it been given a vote, I was at Sam’s mercy. One of his giant hands spread across the middle of my lower back, and the other one held the front of my throat. His fingers and thumb tilted my jaw in whatever angle he wanted while he took complete ownership of my mouth.
I stood on tiptoes even though I really wanted to climb his body and wrap my legs around his waist. He felt so good. Strong and possessive, but gentle and sweet at the same time. It was a dangerous combination, dangerous for me anyway. The last thing I needed was to develop a crush on a guy who was going to breeze right back out of town as soon as the weather turned.
But that didn’t mean I was going to end this kiss, because… well, I wasn’t stupid. He was a darned good kisser, and I was going to drink in this experience as much as he would let me so I could replay it later like a favorite video clip on my phone.
The only warning I got before he ended the kiss was a slight tightening of his fingers on my neck before he let me go and gently pushed me away from him.
“Fuck,” he muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Fuck. Fuck.”
My heart was racing like a rabbit, and my mind was worse. Why was he so upset? Had it been a bad kiss? Had I disappointed him? Clearly, Sam was having regrets.
“Sorry,” I said, spreading my feet a little wider and standing up straight. I wanted to be ready for the emotional blow when he full-on rejected me. I could take it. I was used to it.
“Why are you sorry?” He squinted at me in the afternoon sun. “Are you sorry?”
I firmed my jaw. “No, actually. I’m not sorry one bit. But you looked like you were, so I was sorry you didn’t like it as much as I did.”
I was surprised to discover myself more annoyed than insecure.
Sam’s face softened, and he stepped closer again, leaning in until we were almost nose to nose. “Who said I didn’t like it? I liked it, okay? I liked it plenty. I more than liked it.”
For some reason, his growled words, spoken almost against his will, made me feel stupid. Like I’d made him angry by being kissable. My body flushed hot, then cold, and I began to feel numb. Ahh, here was the insecurity at last. It was a feeling I was familiar with. It meant I needed to get away from him before I did any more apologizing.
I flashed him a big smile. “I have to go,” was all I managed to get out before bolting for the house. I heard him call my name, but I ignored him. In my mind I came up with all of the words I wish I’d said to him. That if he’d enjoyed kissing me, he wouldn’t have scrubbed at his mouth like my lips had been poisonous. That if he recalled, he was the one who’d kissed me. It wasn’t like I’d asked for it.
Had I?
Only with every fiber of my being. But unless he was a mind reader, there’d been no way for him to know it.
I reached for the front door of the house and pulled it open. Just as I was preparing to slam it closed behind me, I registered the sound of his heavy boots on the wooden planks of the front porch.
He got to the door before I could slam it.
“Truman, wait. Wait, dammit.”
I shook my head and waved my hand over my shoulder. “I’m fine. Sorry to cut our time short. Bye!” I headed to the sunroom in the back where I had two large worktables set up to put together online orders. Cubbies with shipping supplies stood neatly below the thick wooden tabletops, and my laptop sat primly next to the small label printer.
I tried to focus my brain on what I needed to do. When I’d arrived home, I’d gotten distracted planting the last of the nasturtium seeds in my garden when I really should have been in here organizing today’s shipments.
My body shook with a combination of nerves and frustration. I’d finally gotten the kind of sexy, breathtaking moment I’d only read about in novels. But then it had all been dashed to bits when he’d pushed me away.
Why had he ruined it? I wanted to scream.
I expected him to bark out my name again or grab my arm to force me to look at him. Instead, he simply followed me into the sunroom and sat on the edge of the old reading chair in the corner. I tried my best to ignore him and get to work, but the weight of my hissy fit became heavier as the minutes wore on.