Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
I should do exactly what I told Adalynn I had to do tonight, but the thought of sitting at my desk, working through the abundance of paperwork, makes my eyes want to cross.
The deep breaths I take once I drop back down into my cruiser do nothing to decrease the pressure I’m feeling. I know I don’t have the weight of the world on my shoulders. I live a pretty decent life. I also know that wanting, wishing, and hoping are futile and there’s no sense in being upset over the things I don’t have. Wanting something doesn’t change its availability and accessibility.
I put the SUV into drive and head straight for my house. As much as I’d like to call Adalynn and lay down the law, I know I can’t. I would never compromise what we have that way. What I need to do is learn to be grateful for the pieces of herself she does give me. Wanting more is only going to leave me disappointed and alone.
Chapter 16
Adalynn
“The doorbell?” I ask once I pull the front door open. “Really?”
“Were you still asleep?”
I shake my head as I step to the side so he can enter the house.
It’s awkward now between us, and that’s the very last thing I wanted.
“For you,” he says, holding up a bright blue bag of powdered donuts.
My mouth waters at the sight of them. I know I own a bakery, and I can make the most decadent desserts. I should be ashamed for indulging in the overprocessed things in his hand, but they’re my guilty pleasure. He knows I wouldn’t be caught dead buying them because it doesn’t take much for the gossip mill to start churning. I usually grab them anytime I have to run to Austin to bulk buy ingredients for the bakery.
“Have I told you how much I love you?” I ask, taking the bag when he hands it over to me. “Do you want some?”
His nose scrunches just like it always does, because unlike me, Cash is a smart man and knows just how unhealthy these things are.
“You’re going to eat them right now?” he asks, a hint of disappointment in his tone.
I look up at him, my fingers already wrapping around the first piece of powdered deliciousness.
Right, the sex. That’s what this was about.
“It can wait,” I tell him, pulling my empty hand from the package.
I feel the warmth of his body against mine the second I turn to place the package on the side table. A shudder of anticipation runs up the backs of my legs, and the worry I felt when I got out of bed and didn’t pull on pajama bottoms becomes a distant memory. Before we started this get-me-pregnant plan, I’d never open my front door in nothing but an oversized t-shirt and panties. This morning it felt so naughty.
As he runs his hand up my hip, pulling the thin fabric of the t-shirt with it, I feel like I made the right call.
“I dreamed about you last night,” he says, his voice a whisper in my ear.
I lift my head when a finger under my chin urges me to do so. Yesterday, at the bakery, things happened so quickly, but even as his finger trails down my neck, our gazes locked on each other, I know that today is going to be so much better.
He didn’t say much yesterday other than to make demands that he somehow knew I’d obey. A shiver threatens to make me lose my balance, but the look in his eyes tells me that he’d never let me fall. If he wanted me on my knees, he’d put me there and not a second sooner.
The first night we came together was a fluke of errors and mistakes. For some reason, he wasn’t being true to himself, and it showed in how he touched me.
“You’re different,” I whisper, his eyes pinned on the heat I feel rising in my cheeks. I hate my inability to control that part of myself. It’s as if my secrets are on full display.
I shouldn’t have said anything. There are some things that shouldn’t be said out loud.
“I’m listening to your body rather than your mouth.”
His eyes dip to my lips, and on instinct, I run my tongue over them.
“What is my body telling you?”
A slow, mischievous smile turns up the corners of his mouth, and his reaction is enough to tell me that this meeting is going to be just as good, if not better, than the one we had yesterday morning.
“It wants to be filled with my cock,” he says, his voice full of gravel and promise. “That your pussy can’t wait to come all over me.”
I swallow the thickness threatening to lodge in my throat.
The man wouldn’t normally use such language around me. I know he cusses and speaks in a way with others that he never would with me, and it sort of thrills me that he’s so confident, he doesn’t curb that part of him in this moment.