Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
“Tuck it in a little more?”
“Yes.”
“Oh Jesus. She’s even tighter back here.”
“Sig. Stop. Keep going. Sig.”
They gasped into a kiss and her lower body went into test-his-stamina mode, grinding down on his root, throwing her hips back to partially free his flesh, then riding back down. Up and down, while their mouths moved in a frenzy, stealing each other’s breath and giving it back, teeth sinking into neck tendons, fingers burying in muscle, grunts hitting the walls of the living space and echoing back, the couch springs growing louder with protest the longer and harder she rode, Sig holding on to his come with every ounce of willpower in his body, until she finally screamed into his sweaty neck and let go, allowing him to throw her down on the couch and deliver one final, shattering drive.
And afterward, the way they clung to each other was just as powerful as the act itself, her laboring breath baptizing his skin, their hearts making vows their lips weren’t capable of speaking. Maybe theirs was the kind of love that didn’t need to be spoken out loud. Later, though . . . he’d wish he had. Maybe it would have made a difference.
Chapter Nineteen
Chloe stared up at the ceiling, sandwiched between the greatest high she’d ever experienced—and dread that multiplied by the second. It scaled the walls of her insides like the kind of black mold that couldn’t be wiped out without total demolishment. She didn’t quite have an explanation for the sense of impending doom yet, only that a turning point was coming . . . and no one was there to give her directions anymore.
For once, the man she depended on for directions was lost.
More lost than Chloe.
Looking across the pillow into his smiling face, one couldn’t tell. He was wreathed in his usual confidence. His hand stroked her face like an artist framing a landscape—one he found breathtaking and worthy of staring at for decades. He was the picture of masculine beauty, casual in his nudity. Not in a rush to go anywhere. Content to hold her after the most incredible rounds of sex she could have imagined. Their physical chemistry was the final shred of proof they were made for each other, as far as Chloe was concerned. She’d never felt free to be so uninhibited before. So positive she could only do right in the arms of another person.
This man was her soulmate, through and through. But the dread only ran amuck now, spreading to her limbs, scraping the walls of her heart.
You want that contract, that captain spot more than anything.
Wrong. I want you more.
If getting it means staying away from me, that’s what you have to do.
Absolutely not.
A sharp twist started in her throat and rose higher, causing pain behind her eyes. “Sig—”
“Hey, sorry. I was distracted earlier by . . . you.” That roguish grin on his mouth only grew. How could his face appear so content when they had monumental decisions in front of them? Didn’t he sense what was on the horizon? “I’m always distracted by you, Chlo.”
Her fingers curled into the pillow. “Same,” she whispered.
Affection warmed his features. “But I should have asked . . .” He tucked hair behind her ear, his amusement dimming slowly. “How did you find out about the article? Did someone send it to you?”
Chloe kept her expression mild. Why she chose this exact moment to start lying to her best friend? She couldn’t say. Only that there was an instinct inside of her—one she didn’t have before moving to Boston and living on her own—and it was informing her that Sig would not react well to finding out their relationship had caused Grace to excuse her as a mentee. He’d raise hell. And he’d take it upon himself to fix the issue . . .
But she needed to fix her own problem this time.
She’d been dropped by Grace because of her own decisions. She’d allowed her relationship with Sig to become something indefinable and vague and questionable, at least to the outside world. Not to mention, she’d blabbed to the reporter. Now? Handing off the situation to someone else wasn’t an option. Sig had his own mess to deal with—she’d handle her own side of it like a big girl.
“Tallulah sent it to me,” Chloe said, tuning out the memory of the conversation she’d had with Grace. Refusing to let the truth show on her face. “I think she has a Google alert for anything Bearcats-related. I don’t even know how to set one of those.”
“Me either,” he murmured, his expression turning serious. “I have to tell you something, Chlo.” He opened his mouth, snapped it shut. “Damn, I know it must seem like I’ve been keeping a lot of important shit from you, but I swear . . . I was planning on telling you this when the time was right. Or if I managed to find a solution.”