Total pages in book: 7
Estimated words: 5672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 28(@200wpm)___ 23(@250wpm)___ 19(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 5672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 28(@200wpm)___ 23(@250wpm)___ 19(@300wpm)
The water feels good on my skin as I wash my hair. I’m hoping the lavender-scented soap I love will help me sleep. I wash my hair and body and then get out. I wrap my hair up in a towel and dry off my body. I pull my hair down and drop my towels on the floor. I didn’t bring clean pajamas into the bathroom with me, so I pull open the bathroom door and expect the room to still be dark, but the light on the nightstand is now on. I know that wasn’t on; I look around the room and don’t see anything or anyone. I must be so distracted by thoughts of Wes that I forgot I turned it on.
Shaking my head, I reach for my lotion from the top of the dresser and begin applying it generously. As I am putting some on my chest, I hear a groan. I look up, and my eyes meet his. Wes is here. Standing in the doorway. As if he owns the place. Okay, not the place, me. He comes in and shuts the door. As he walks toward me, the world around us seems to still. I don’t know how I’m remaining so calm outwardly, but inside I’m freaking the fuck out.
“Wes?” I ask, needing to make sure I’m not dreaming or something.
“I’m here, tigress. I’m here.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask, letting my hands fall to my sides. I’m standing in front of him, totally naked, my hair looking as if I were a drowned rat. No one has seen me naked since I was a toddler needing help bathing. No one. Ever. His eyes, the first on my body, feel so right that any self-conscious thought I had goes right out the window because he’s staring at me like he wants to eat me, and I will let him do whatever he wants to do to me. Three months of waiting has taken its toll on my heart and my body. I’m his in every way. If he wants to simply stare at me, he has the right to.
Instead of answering me, he takes a second to lock the door before stalking toward me. He puts the water bottles in his hands on the dresser and grabs my hips, pulling me flush with him. I let out a little squeak, but it gets eaten up by his mouth on mine. He’s kissing me, finally. It’s everything I had hoped my first kiss would be like. His lips are both soft and hard, and it feels every bit as needy as I am. I moan, opening my mouth to him. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, and I taste his toothpaste. His fingers knead my ass, and I try to get closer to him, but his stupid clothes prevent that. He rips his mouth away from mine. We are both breathing harshly.
“You are so fucking beautiful, Gwen. Do you know how hard I fought to stay away from you? Tell me you still want me. Tell me I get to have you for all eternity. This life and the next ones. Tell me that you are mine.” I stare at him and lick my lips as he pulls his shirt over his head.
“I haven’t changed my mind. I am yours,” I tell him, staring at his tattooed chest. I never would have thought the strait-laced cop standing before me would be tatted up. The wolf head made of Celtic knots is breathtaking, but then I notice the Claddagh over his heart. My name is in neat Olde English block-style lettering under it. I reach out and trace my fingers over my name. It’s fully healed.
“Thank fuck,” he says, breathing a sigh of relief.
“When did you get that?” I ask.
“The day after Kylie and Mitch’s wedding.”
All I can do is nod in awe. Only a man in love or a fucking fool would tattoo a virtual stranger's name on his chest. He grabs my wrist and brings it to his mouth. My hands wrap around his waist and push his so hot they should be illegal grey sweatpants out of my way.
I step back and look at him. His hard cock is angry and already spitting at me. I reach for his cock and wrap my fist around him, pumping it.
“Mmm… you’re so big,” I murmur.
“As much as I love your hands on me, tigress. I need to worship you before I sink balls deep inside of you.”
“Oh?” I ask, beyond turned on. My pussy juice is coating my thighs already. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
“Get on the bed,” he demands, and I do, climbing into the center of it. As I do so, he’s pulling his clothes and shoes the rest of the way off. “Spread your thighs and show me what’s mine and mine alone.” His growly voice goes all through me.