Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Her sobs turn to sniffles and eventually quiet, and she lifts her head from my chest to look at me. Green eyes filled with sadness, love, confusion, and worry stare back at me. I want to ease her fears, and the only way I can do that is to show her. Sliding one hand behind her neck, I bend, pressing my lips to hers. Just a feather-soft touch to gauge the moment.
“Coop,” she breathes, and suddenly there’s something else in those beautiful eyes of hers.
Desire.
My hands settle on her waist as I bring her body flush with mine. She moans, and I have to taste her. This time I take what I want. I push my tongue past her lips and explore her mouth. My hands roam up and down her back, tracing her spine. She whimpers, and all bets are off. I need her naked.
Now.
Pulling back, I move us to the bed. She stands still as she watches me rip off my suit jacket and toss it on the floor. I remove my shirt from my dress pants and fumble with the button, and then the zipper as I tug them over my hips, letting them pool around my ankles. I kick off my shoes, and then my pants, as I rip open my shirt. Buttons ping off the walls as they fly across the room, but I couldn’t care less. I get to the neck and realize I’m still wearing my tie. With deft fingers, I work the knots and slide it over my head, dragging my shirt off and tossing it to the floor as well.
I’m standing before her in nothing but my boxer briefs, which do nothing to hide the fact that my cock is hard and aching for her. “I love you.” My voice is strong and doesn’t waver. I watch her closely, and her breathing accelerates at my confession. “I need you out of this fucking dress,” I growl. It kills me to see her in the dress she bought to wear for him. “Turn around, baby.”
She does as I ask. Kissing the back of her neck, I start with the zipper. As wedding dresses go, this one is simple. White, silk, and landing just above her ankles. There is no flair, or princess qualities—something I always thought of when I thought of Reese in a wedding gown. Over the past couple of months, since I got the invitation, I’ve imagined it quite often, and every time I was the man waiting for her at the altar.
Me.
I need her out of this one. The dress she bought to wear for him. With trembling hands, I give the zipper a tug, and nothing happens. I try again and still nothing. With a heavy sigh, I rest my forehead against her shoulder.
“Coop,” she says, reaching her arms behind her and grabbing my cock. “I need you.” There’s a tremor in her voice, a need I must cater to.
Only me.
Her words send fire coursing through my veins. She needs me, and that’s more than I could ever ask for. I want to be that man for her. The one she can lean on, and the one who fuels her desires. The one who gives her everything she needs, in the bedroom and in life.
Fuck it.
Lifting my head, I grip either side of the dress by the zipper and tug. The silk fabric tears. Reese gasps, the sound echoing throughout the room. With the fabric still gripped tightly in my fists, I pull until the dress falls from her body. Underneath, I find my Reese wearing a white lace thong and matching bra. It’s as if she’s a gift, not just to me but to my heart, and my cock, one we can’t wait to unwrap.
“I don’t know where to start,” I murmur, raking my eyes over her body. She makes the decision for me when she slides her fingers into the waistband of her thong. She shimmies her hips, and the tiny piece of fabric slides to the floor. When she reaches behind her back to unclasp her bra, I place my hands over hers, stopping her. “Let me.” My voice is low and husky. I’ve thought about this moment a thousand times. Finally, after years of hiding and denying my attraction to her, we’ve come to this.
“Cooper,” she whispers.
I lean in and kiss the back of her neck, my lips trailing over to her bare shoulder. I want my lips on every inch of her skin. I want to trace every curve. I want to memorize her. Then, I want to do it all again. Over and over again, every fucking day for the rest of my life.
Unsnapping her bra, I slide the straps over her shoulders. I watch as she removes each arm and tosses the white lace to the floor. I don’t bother to look where it lands. No, my eyes are glued to her smooth, silky skin. When I reach out with my index finger between her breasts, she shivers. “You cold, baby?” I ask, my voice thick.