Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 102016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
He’s standing there, impressively naked, and crosses his arms over his chest, frowning at me. “Where do you think you’re going?”
I frown back. “Home?”
“Why?”
Now I cross my own arms over my chest, mirroring him. “Because I live there? And I have a cat.”
He abruptly turns away, steps into a pair of gray sweatpants, and then turns back to me. “Can I have your keys?”
“Why?”
“Because I asked for them.”
I blink at him. “It’s a keypad. The code is one-one-four-six.”
He nods, and then he’s gone. The front door opens and closes, and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be doing, so I walk out to the living room and watch through the window as he slips into my house. Five minutes later, he walks out of my house with my cat in one arm and her bed in another.
I open the door for him, and he passes me Pickles, drops the bed on the floor, then kisses me hard and backs away.
“I’ll be right back.”
I cover my lips with my fingers as he takes off again, still barefoot and only in those sweats, and disappears inside my house, but just a few minutes later, he comes back out again. He locks my door behind him, and then he crosses the street and walks into his own house with a litter pan and her food dish, full of food.
“There. She’s here. If you need to go home because of your cat, I just solved that problem. Birdie’s gone until Sunday afternoon, and I’m not wasting a minute of this weekend without you.”
Well then.
What can I really say to that? It’s not as if I wanted to leave Bridger. Tonight has been the best night of my life. I’ve felt valued, listened to, and he freaking worshipped every inch of my body. I’ve never stayed for round two—never believed I was wanted that badly, and honestly, no one has ever invited me to stay. And yet, he still wants more. Not going to lie, that makes me feel incredible. This stunning, kind, sexy god in front of me, who I’ve crushed on for years, wants me.
I set Pickles on the couch and turn to see him watching me, as if he’s waiting for me to make the next move.
The ball is in my court.
“I could use a shower.”
His lips tip up in a relieved smile. “We can make that happen.”
Chapter Seven
BRIDGER
Idon’t remember the last time I felt this content. This relaxed. Or, I admit, this damn smug.
Dani’s curled up around me, draped over me with bare skin, sleeping soundly. And she should be. I woke her up just two hours ago to fuck her again because she was in my arms, just like this, and I couldn’t resist her.
How could anyone resist her?
And how is it possible that anyone lucky enough to be in Dani’s bed never had their mouth on her? Don’t get me wrong, the thought of another fucker’s hands or mouth anywhere near this woman makes me feral, but what a bunch of absolute idiots. She’s so fucking amazing she takes my breath away. Soft, warm skin, breasts that beg for my hands, and a pussy so damn delicious, I know that I’ll never get my fill of her. The noises she makes, the way she clutches my hair in her fists, Jesus, everything about her is just…fuck.
Even now, the mere feel of her, skin on skin, has my cock thickening, but I drag my hand down my face and mentally tell it to calm the fuck down. She needs to rest, and I need coffee.
Gently, I slide out from under her and nudge my pillow against her, smiling when she hugs it close and nuzzles that gorgeous face into it, sighing back into sleep.
Dani Lexington is every fucking fantasy I’ve ever had in my life, and she’s finally in my bed.
I plan to keep her there as much as possible, which won’t be nearly enough, given that I have a five-year-old, but we’ll figure it out. I wasn’t kidding when I told her that staying away from her isn’t a damn option for me.
After tugging on some sweats and a tank, I pad out to the kitchen and get a pot of coffee going. Pickles is curled up, sleeping on the couch as if she’s lived here all her life. When I walk over to pet her, she stretches, blinks at me, and then turns in a circle to go back to sleep.
“Get used to this,” I whisper to her before returning to the kitchen. I usually drink my coffee on the deck, on the rare days that Birdie and I aren’t rushing to get out the door, and I wonder if Dani would like to have breakfast out there today. I have stuff for pancakes and bacon, and I even have some fresh fruit that I picked up the other day.