Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 85876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
After a couple of minutes, I somehow find the energy to move us so that I don’t crush her. I roll to my back with her sprawled out on top of me, and my cock is still half-hard inside her.
“Are you okay?” I smooth my hand over her hair.
“Mmhmm,” she hums sleepily, and I grin at the ceiling. “I hope I didn’t just miss you smiling,” she mumbles, and I laugh while her arms tighten around me. “I like that sound.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She lifts her head off my chest and looks down at me, touching the tips of her fingers to the edge of my lip. “You should do it more often.”
“Laugh?”
“Yes, that and smile. You have a great smile.”
Shit, what the fuck kind of spell does this woman have me under? Because being with her like this feels deeper than it should.
“I can’t believe we just did that.” She laughs resting her head on my chest, which is a relief, because it means she’s not looking at me anymore like she can see into my fucking soul. “If Emma ever finds out, she’s going to be so smug.”
“Is she?”
“Yes, which means she can never find out,” she mutters, and I laugh again. “Darn, I keep missing it.”
“The night’s not over.”
“I guess you’re right.” She sighs, then asks quietly, “Do you want to order in food?”
“Are you hungry?”
“Not right this second, but I will be once the euphoria wears off. I haven’t eaten today.”
“We’ll order when you’re ready.”
“All right.” She lets out a breath and snuggles deeper into my chest like she belongs there, and I wrap my arms around her, because fuck me—it feels like she does.
CHAPTER TWENTY
miranda
Sitting on the counter where Tucker planted me five minutes ago when the Chinese food we ordered arrived, I watch him unload the bag wearing nothing but his jeans that are still unbuttoned. Even knowing it happened, because I was there, I can’t wrap my mind around the fact that I had sex with him.
No, I didn’t just have sex with him. I had mind-blowing, change-your-world sex with him. I’ve had sex a lot. I mean, maybe not with a lot of partners or even recently, but being married, I did have sex a lot. Okay, again, not recently, but still. And although I thought I knew what good sex was, I was obviously wrong.
The way he spoke to me, the way he just took control and basically used me to get off, is something I’ve never experienced in my life. If you’d asked me before if I would enjoy something like that, I would have likely had said no. And Lord would I have been wrong. It was amazing… spectacular, actually… and—
“You keep looking at me like that, you’re not going to get the chance to eat, because I will be eating you.” The roughly spoken statement drags me from my thoughts, and I squeeze my thighs together as I meet his heated gaze.
“Sorry,” I whisper, and he wraps his hand around my throat, using his thumb to tip my head back, and kisses me softly. When he pulls back, his eyes search mine for a moment, like he’s looking for something. What it is, I have no idea, but his expression gets soft, and he shakes his head before he lets me go, passing me a container of fried rice and orange chicken.
“What time does Kingston get back tomorrow?” He leans against the counter next to me, holding his own container of food.
“In the early afternoon.”
“You picking him up, or is Bowie dropping him off?”
“He’s dropping him before he goes to work.” I take a bite of my food, then look toward where my phone is in my bag when it starts to ring. Glancing at the clock, I see it’s almost eight, around the time Kingston normally goes to bed. “It’s probably Kingston calling to tell me goodnight.”
I hop off the counter and go to my purse. When I pull it out, it’s Bowie calling like I assumed, so I slide my finger across the screen, and before I even get it to my ear, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end when I hear Kingston screaming for me in the background.
“What happened?”
“We’re on the way to emergency,” Bowie says, and my vision dims. “Can you meet us there?”
“What happened?” I repeat as I run to my bedroom, feeling Tucker right behind me as I go into my dresser and pull out a pair of sweats.
“He fell in the bathtub. He’s all right, but I think he’s going to need stitches.”
“What hospital?” I turn the phone on speaker and place it on top of the dresser as I put on my sweats and strip off my top so I can put on a bra.
“The children’s emergency at Vanderbilt.”