Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 212458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1062(@200wpm)___ 850(@250wpm)___ 708(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 212458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1062(@200wpm)___ 850(@250wpm)___ 708(@300wpm)
“You think,” he moves in close, so close our noses are almost touching, “I’d drop you?”
The intensity in his eyes rocks me to my core and knocks the anger straight out of me.
“No,” I whisper.
“I would never drop you.”
“But don’t carry me like that.”
“You can handle it,” he teases, mouth twitching.
I shove him and try to move him away and he catches me and puts me on my back, pinning me and grinding his erection against me while slipping his tongue between my now parted lips.
“I’ll never drop you,” he says against my mouth, “Never hurt you. Not ever.”
It’s a struggle to work down a swallow as I stare into his gorgeous dark eyes.
“Okay,” I whisper sweetly and caress his jaw, “But don’t carry me like that, or else…” I moisten my lips with my tongue and as his eyes drop to my mouth, I haughtily warn, “I’ll knee you in the nuts again.” I tug on his lower lip with my teeth and then release it.
He laughs against my mouth. “Not nice.”
“You’ve been warned,” I tell him with a shrug.
“And I’m warning you, mate, I’ll carry you any way I see fit.”
My eyes flash with anger. But despite that, he is shit-hot.
And he knows it.
He caresses my cheek as his eyes go soft. “I’m sorry you were freaked, baby. I’m here. If ever you wake at the crack of dawn and I’m not here, I’ll be back soon.”
“Okay,” I whisper and wrap my arms around him.
“Bride style next time. For my bride. Okay?” he asks.
I bite my lip, unable to form an answer.
“You want crepes before or after you get fucked?” he asks.
“I wanna get fucked before and after crepes,” I say, smiling.
“Good answer. I wanna spend the day in bed with you. We can take out the manicotti my mother sent. It’s in the freezer.”
“And drink the rest of the honey wine she sent?”
“Yeah. We’ll do that. No interruptions today. Just you ‘n me. Sound good?”
“Okay. Except I need to check in with my mom just once. Find out how it went last night.”
“Okay, baby. But other than that, you’re all mine?” The warmth in his eyes is toasty, so toasty, I feel like they could keep me warm out in the snow.
“All yours,” I whisper. “Maybe tomorrow can we go for an hour to help them unload the truck? Then when we come back, I’ll make you dinner.”
“Whatever you want.”
“Okay.” I kiss him. “You didn’t ask what I’ll cook.”
“I don’t care what you cook, Amie. Don’t care what it tastes like, either. Just love that you wanna cook for me at all.”
My hand drifts up his chest as I kiss him.
He hums a sound of approval as his hand glides up my ribcage to my breast and then I’m running my hand down over his erection.
“What you gonna cook?” he asks.
“Maybe you’ll have to wait ‘n see,” I tease.
“Pretty sure that on day one you said you didn’t cook or clean.”
“I know.”
“You lied?”
“You’ll see, I guess.”
“You did some domestic stuff this morning…”
“The bed was… you know…” I wrinkle my nose. “In need of changing.”
“You made coffee. Where’d you put those sheets and blankets?”
“I started some laundry.”
“So you did lie. You do clean and cook?”
“Maybe.”
“You angling for a punishment fuck?”
“What would denote the need for that? Being a good cook?”
“Lyin’ to me about that, maybe…”
“Mm. I guess we’ll see,” I say.
“We will.” He deeply inhales. “Smells like that’s exactly what you want. But right now, I want it sweet. Wanna keep seein’ this sweet look in your eyes for a while. That okay with you?”
“Okay,” I whisper. “But do one thing for me before you fuck me.”
“Anything,” he says, giving me goosebumps.
I kiss him, then request, “Growl for me, Doggo.”
***
“He unloaded the van and looked around. We talked for a few minutes, and then he left,” Mom tells me.
“Oh?” I say into the phone. “Are you disappointed he didn’t try anything?” I smooth out the comforter on Mason’s bed and roll onto my belly so I can look out the window. The sun is shining, and it sounds like there are birds directly outside the window.
“No. Even though he didn’t make a big move, there were signs he’s interested. And I liked that they weren’t… you know… overt.”
“Such as?”
“Such as he asked me out.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. And he kissed my hand before he left. It was very gentlemanly.”
“Nice. So… you’re going out with him?”
“He asked if I’d like to have dinner with him one day next week. He’s still coming back tomorrow to help with the bigger move, so we’ll make plans then.”
“You want me there? Tomorrow, I mean. I could come. Help you unpack.”
“No, baby girl. Don’t worry; you have your own unpacking to do.”
I sigh. But I don’t disagree. I can’t think about that. I can’t think about much. I’ve been fucked, fed, and fucked again so far today and oh… I see that Mason is leaning in the doorway of his bedroom looking at me with intention in his eyes. He’s wearing a pair of jeans and nothing else. He moistens his lips and scratches his stubbled jaw while his eyes work over me. I’m thinking those eyes are filled with carnal intentions. How come I’m not sore? How can I be ready for more?