Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 505(@200wpm)___ 404(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 505(@200wpm)___ 404(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Helplessly, I tuck my hands into my pockets, because I don’t know what else to do with them. I lean against the bathroom stall. “You want to talk about it?”
With a slow exhale, she turns, then hoists herself up on the counter. “I do. But I don’t.”
“Did somebody hurt you?” My gut knots with the question. You can’t save her, Ethan.
“You could say that.”
I step forward. Maybe that’s why she’s here on this impulsive visit to Jackson Harbor. Maybe she’s running from someone, escaping a home that’s not safe. “Do you have somewhere safe to go?”
“It’s not that kind of hurt,” she whispers. She swallows, and her gaze dips to my mouth. “Why are you so sad?”
Because you remind me of Elena. Because I couldn’t walk away from her either. “I’m just worried about you.” I don’t know if I step closer or if gravity pulls me that way, but in a breath, she’s at my fingertips and my thighs brush her knees.
“Will you do me a favor?” she asks, her attention still on my lips.
“What?”
“Will you kiss me?”
“Nic . . .” I wait for the excuses to find their way onto my tongue, but they don’t, and I realize I don’t want an excuse to walk away from her. My whole body is warm and my fingers itch to touch her. The only thing I want is my mouth on hers. I want to taste her joy and sadness. I want to know how it feels to have that body pressed against mine.
I’m silent a beat too long, and she winces. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s not that I don’t want to, but you’re vulnerable.”
“Are you always so noble?”
“If you think my thoughts are noble right now, you’re even more naïve than I feared.” I lean my forehead against hers. Christ. Who am I kidding? She’s asking me to do something I’ve been thinking about since I first laid eyes on her. I couldn’t deny her if I wanted to, and I don’t want to. Not even a little.
I cup her face in my hand and run my thumb along her jaw.
She slides a hand behind my neck. “I like the way you look at me. You make me feel sexy. Wanted.”
“Who made you feel like you weren’t?”
“A mistake.”
“Then he didn’t deserve you.” I lower my mouth to hers, telling myself the kiss will be brief, that I won’t get carried away. But then her other hand joins the first behind my neck, and her breasts press against my chest. Her thighs part, and I step between them in my instinctive need to be closer. A soft moan slips from her lips as our mouths connect.
This girl kisses like she does everything else—with unabashed emotion. She doesn’t hide a thing she’s feeling, and I’m hard even before her mouth opens under mine and our tongues sweep across each other.
I thread one hand into her hair and slide the other up her bare leg, my fingers curling into the flesh of her hip while my thumb strokes her inner thigh. Her skirt is bunched around her waist, and it would be so easy to follow this soft skin up and find her panties. She’s making the sexiest sounds, and I’m dying to touch her, to find out if she’s as turned on as she sounds, but I keep my hand where it is and give her the kiss she asked for. I offer the evidence that she’s sexy and desirable, no matter what some asshole made her think.
She’s the one who breaks the kiss. Eyes closed, she leans her forehead against my shoulder, her body rocking as her breathing slows.
Still too tempted to explore the soft skin at the apex of her thighs, I pull my hand away and place it on the counter by her hip. She lifts her head, and her gaze follows my hand. Is she looking at my bare ring finger? I came here straight from the hospital and I don’t wear it at work—I wash my hands all day long and it gets in the way. For the first time since Elena slid that band on my finger, I have a moment when I’m glad to not have it. That moment is immediately followed by a sharp pang of guilt.
I don’t want to forget my wife or pretend she never existed. If I thought touching this woman would make me forget Elena or my grief on any level, I’d walk away. I don’t want to forget. I don’t deserve to. “It’s late. Can I get you a cab?”
She shakes her head. “I walked. My hotel is close.”
There’s no way I’m letting her walk there alone. Her encounter with John proves she’s a creep magnet. Add the tequila and emotional vulnerability to that equation—and the way she just kissed me like her life depended on it—and I know I won’t rest unless I see with my own eyes that she’s safely locked in her room.