Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 85183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
"You want me to kiss you here, Tor?" His warm breath blows across my clit, and my hips roll of their own accord, seeking him.
"Yes," I breathe.
His teeth nip at the inside of my thigh. "You know what you need to do, doll." I can hear the smile in his voice, and I want to slap him, but not as much as I want his mouth on me.
"Please, Jude." And then his tongue is caressing me, his strong hands pinning me to the bed as he tortures me in ways that only he can.
I yank on his hair until he hisses, and skims his teeth across my clit, making me whimper. He teases my entrance with one finger, before pushing it inside me.
I throw my head back against the pillow as my body tightens. Pleasure explodes, igniting my entire being. I scream and my head spins.
I come so hard, I wake myself up.
I lay there, panting and shaking, and then as always the tears follow. It's a blessing and a curse, to see him, to feel him, but to wake up and realise that he's not real, that he's gone.
I glance to my left, to where Cayla is. She's gone. I sit bolt upright, blind panic consuming me.
"I hope that dream was about me."
I frown as I thrust my hand under my pillow and pull out my nine millimetre, pointing it at the shadowy figure in the corner. Familiarity pulls at the corners of my mind, but I'm so blinded by fear for Cayla, that I can't acknowledge it.
"Where's my baby?" I say, my heart is racing with adrenaline. This is the worst feeling in the world, to fear for your child.
"Our baby is right here, Tor. She's so fucking perfect.”
I falter, my mind coming back into focus.
“Jude?” I whisper, my heart hammering against my ribs. This can’t be real. He’s dead. I’m still dreaming. I watch him rise and step into the moonlight drifting through the open doors. He places Cayla down in her bed, and sits on the edge of the bed next to me. I reach out, tracing my shaking fingers down his cheek. The rough stubble of his jaw brushes against my fingertips. He turns his face, pressing his lips to my wrist. I choke on a sob and press my face into the space between his neck and shoulder, inhaling the scent of him that my mind hasn’t been able to replicate no matter how many times I try.
He winds his fingers into my hair, and touches his forehead to mine.
“I miss you so much,” I breathe, clinging to him, terrified that if I let go, he’ll vanish. He gently pulls my hair, yanking my head back so he can look down at me.
"Hey, doll," he breathes. He brushes his lips over mine, his lips soft yet desperate. He tears away from me, cupping my face in his large hands. “I promised you I wouldn’t leave you. Nothing can fucking keep me away from you. Not a damn thing!”
If this is a dream, then I hope I never wake up.
I glance over. Tor is reading a book; her feet propped up on the railing of the deck. The sun glints from her blonde hair, highlighting her tanned skin. Cayla wiggles against my bare chest, and I gently pat her back, slouching down in the sun-lounger. She grunts, flopping her head against my shoulder. "It's alright little girl. Daddy's got you."
The waves crash against the shore. The cool breeze blows over the porch, catching the wind chimes in their wake and creating a soothing tinkering. Tor closes her book and sets it on the table as she rises. "I'm going to go and make dinner."
I smile, and grab her wrist, pulling her into my lap. She leans forward and gently strokes the back of Cayla's blonde head, her eyes going soft. I've always thought she was beautiful, but the way she is with Cayla, it makes my cock rock-fucking-hard. I wrap my free hand around the back of her neck, and pull her forward, placing a kiss on her lips.
"Fuck me, you are beautiful," I growl. "And I fucking love you."
She smiles, caressing her fingers over my jaw. "I love you." She presses her lips to mine once more, and stands up, making her way inside the house.
I settle back down in the lounger and stare out over the turquoise waters, gently circling my finger over Cayla's tiny back as she sleeps.
Fate has a fucking funny way of working itself out. At one point I thought I had lost everything, but someone threw me a lifeline. Turns out, I was so damn good at what I did, the FBI was willing to stroke out a deal, even to a convicted murderer. I stood my fucking ground, refusing to give up anything to them until they granted me my freedom. Seems like letting one criminal go in exchange for dozens is an even trade. That wreck was no accident. It was planned, but the only people that know that are me and two government officials. I took a bullet for that shit, just to make it convincing, and now, as far as the world is concerned, Jude Pearson is dead.