Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 136247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
The worst part is, they aren’t even hampered by the crowd or the excitement of the bull rides that finish the main rodeo event. Then folks pack their stuff up and a couple hundred voices clash through the night, their owners spilling outside, ready to look at animals and play overpriced games when they’re not buying up every last morsel from the food stands.
“Hey, want a beer or hard lemonade?” I ask as we exit the grandstand. “My treat for making my job easier.”
“A lemonade sounds refreshing,” she says, grabbing my arm as I push us through the slow-moving crowds. “Oh, wait, is that Bella Reed?”
“Larkin now,” I mutter.
Damn, and here I’d been hoping to get her alone.
“Oh, right. Let’s grab our drinks and say hello!”
Even as we do exactly that, I keep my arm locked around hers, pulling tighter, the rawness in my blood forcing me to keep a possessive hold.
Doesn’t seem to bother her. She looks at me funny a couple times before giving me that hellfire blush again a second later.
Fuck, I’m almost afraid of what she’s thinking.
Those pink cheeks, blue eyes, and cryptic Mona Lisa smiles of hers are gonna murder me before the night ends.
Once I’ve got an ice-cold beer and she’s sucking on her lemonade, we find my friends, who are all clustered together now.
Drake and Ridge join us, along with their wives, and the six of us wander to the midway. I can barely get a word in with the guys between Bella and Tory laughing up a storm over old times, Edison’s antics, all the times Bella’s grandpa was fit to be tied with that horse.
It’s well after sunset now.
The colorful lights shine brightly off the rides in the little carnival area they’ve set up.
I’m not sure who suggests we all take a ride on the Ferris wheel—a surprisingly big one for a little town like Dallas—but that’s what happens.
Taking her hand, I lead us into one of the small pods before the next ride starts up.
Once we’re buckled into our seats together and the door shuts, the big wheel grinds forward to load the next folks. Ridge, Grace, and Levi by the looks of it.
“What’s the matter?” I ask her, leaning in, wondering if she’s gone pale or it’s just my imagination.
“Um...I probably should’ve mentioned I’m not a huge fan of heights,” Tory says, hiding her face behind one slim hand.
“You aren’t?”
She shakes her head, still keeping her hand up.
“Aw, Peach. Why’d you agree to ride?”
“I just...I thought you wanted to.” She squeezes her eyes shut as the wheel lurches again, this time higher. She lets out a squeak, throwing one hand against the side of the pod and the other against my chest. “I didn’t want to disappoint you, Quinn.”
I move, looping an arm around her shoulders, trying to ignore the brutal urges flicking through my body.
“Not even possible. Riding this old thing doesn’t matter to me either way. I’ve got you,” I growl, pulling her face to my shoulder, tilting her chin up softly. “Just don’t look down.”
“Where else is there to look?” she asks quietly, her big eyes gazing up at mine like matching pools.
“Here.” I touch her under the chin, grazing a finger across her soft skin so she shudders. “Staring contest, just like old times. Look at me, Tory Three Names.”
“Oh my God. You haven’t called me that in years,” she snorts, closing her eyes.
“But now you’re not thinking about the heights, are you?”
“Oh. So just like this then?” Her eyes flutter open, this time less afraid. “We just gawk at each other the whole ride?”
For a second, I’m lost for words.
Her pretty face is bathed in tilted shadows, soft light, and I’m pretty damn sure it’s not just worry etched in her features anymore.
She’s looking at me with something else like wonder. Amusement. Anticipation.
Oh, hell.
“No,” I grind out, “I’ve got something less awkward in mind.”
Then whatever shred of restraint I had left gets obliterated.
Leaning forward, I push my forehead to hers and let my thirsty lips move in, drinking my fill of sin.
Not just a small peck.
Not second-guessing.
Not even wondering if we’ll hate ourselves in sixty seconds.
With the way she melts for me and whimpers against my tongue, and the way her little hand shakes on my shoulder, there’s only one thing I can do.
I kiss Tory with a full, fierce, tongue-probing kiss that leaves us both in flames.
9
Goat A Load of This (Tory)
Holy flipping hell.
I’m tasting Quinn Faulkner for the very first time and I think I’m already drunk.
I still don’t know what’s happening as his tongue finds mine, as he pulls me closer, as he growls into my mouth.
Yes, growls.
To be fair, I started it, letting that little moan slip out.
I’d say it was just surprise, but that’d be a total lie.
It’s want.
It’s need.