Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
“The past eleven weeks were shit,” he says gruffly. “I was edgy, short-tempered, and according to Garrett, unreasonably demanding.”
As he speaks, he rises from his chair and comes to stand in front of mine. “Would you like to know why that was, Rory?” he asks as he crouches down.
I swallow nervously and nod my head. Staring into my eyes, he sets his hands on my knees. Even through the fabric of my pants, the heat from his touch is blazing.
“It was because I missed you,” he says as he starts sliding his hands up my legs slowly.
“You did?” I ask.
“Every minute of every day,” he answers. “I missed your smile, your laugh, the way your hair would fan out across my pillow, the scent of your skin, and the enjoyment you get from Sudoku puzzles. I missed the way you drop everything to watch Big Brother because Carly needs you to talk out every episode with her the second it’s over. I even missed how you pour a gallon of creamer into every cup of coffee and the fact that you carry around dryer sheets to put in your shoes when you take them off for the night.”
“God, Mason, I had no idea,” I whisper, my heart beating against my chest like a set of butterfly wings at hyperspeed. I’m blown away by his words, but I’m also considering tackling him to the pavers because his hands are at the top of my thighs and I’m dying for him to do something more.
“I should’ve let you know all that before. I see that now, I do. But you’d have had some idea if you’d have answered your phone or read any of your emails over the last eleven weeks,” he says, his voice tight. “We wasted all this time in limbo because we didn’t talk it out the way we should have. If you’d just told me what you heard, all of this could’ve been avoided.”
“I was…”
I swallow nervously before I take a deep breath.
“I was scared,” I admit. “Overhearing that small bit of the conversation made me think we’d never been on the same page.”
“We were always on the same page, angel. I’m hoping that’s still true now.”
“Now?” I parrot.
He rises quickly and helps me up before wrapping me in his arms. It’s like coming home after a long absence, the warmth of his arms around me so comforting I melt.
“Yes, now,” he says huskily.
I shiver as he leans in and brushes his lips over mine.
“Tell me you’re still mine,” he murmurs.
Eleven weeks without him and nothing has changed. I’m still putty in his hands. I was too tentative before. If we’re going to have a relationship based on trust, I have to let him know how I feel. I also need to be more specific about what I’m thinking and feeling.
“I need you to tell me something first,” I murmur.
“I’m yours,” he replies with absolutely no hesitation. “I haven’t so much as looked at another woman in the entire time we’ve been together, Rory. You have nothing to worry about. I’m all in with you.”
My eyes widen in surprise. “How did you… I mean… I didn’t even say…”
He lets out an amused sound. “That is what you were going to ask, isn’t it?”
I nod.
“I hear what you say with more than just my ears now.”
I don’t get to ask what that means since he chooses to lay a kiss on me so decadent, my knees go weak.
I’m vaguely aware that he’s lifted me up and is carrying me somewhere, but since he doesn’t stop kissing me, I don’t focus on it. He lays me down on something flat and then settles over me, his muscular body right against mine. I pull away for a few seconds to see that he’s taken us to a round outdoor chaise, the padding thick and comfortable. Honestly, I wouldn’t care if he’d set me down on the pavers. He takes my mouth again, and the need in his kiss makes me desperate.
I clench my thighs at his sides and arch against him. He groans and grounds against me, and I shiver when he slips a hand beneath my soft sweater. I whimper at the feeling of his hand on my skin, the warmth rolling over me in waves. I suck in my stomach when he traces his fingers around my belly button. He does it several times before his hand continues its journey up toward my breasts. He makes a sexy sound as he cups my lace-covered breast and traces his thumb over my pebbled nipple.
Tearing his mouth from mine, he smiles down at me. “You want to know what else I missed?” he growls.
I bite my lip and nod.
“I missed how sensitive these perfect fucking tits are.”
As he speaks, he pinches my nipple through the lace. Gasping, I arch against him. He chuckles harshly as he repeats the motion, my nipple tingling from the pleasurable sting of his pinch.