Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“I’m kinda putting my chances of leaving this place alive at seventy percent,” he tells me and follows that with a hollow laugh.
My heart drops. “You don’t trust me?”
Blake shoots to his feet. “I didn’t say that.”
I take off my hat and throw it to the other armchair. My basket with knitting supplies is still where I left it last time I visited. “What are you saying then? I know this place isn’t like the luxurious getaways you’re used to—”
“I’m not used to any getaways, because Carl wanted to keep me close to home. I was supposed to start traveling at eighteen. I’m just scared, and unsure, and I don’t know what will happen to me in the future so I made a joke,” comes out of his mouth as he approaches me. “Don’t you see that my life is ruined?”
I step closer and cup his face. When I touch him, it’s as if the room lights up with non-existent fairy lights, suddenly cozy. The fire crackles, sharing its warmth with the room, and the fragrance of wood is so unbelievably soothing.
“It’s far from ruined. This is just a bump on your way to a fantastic life. You will have everything you ever wanted, I’ll make sure of that.”
Blake’s lashes flutter, and he hesitates for only a moment before clasping his fingers on my jacket. “All this just because I’m your type?”
I run my thumbs over his cheeks, now annoyed that the kettle is starting to whistle at me, because I don’t want to go deal with boiling water when I have a fire in my hands.
“It’s not just that. I feel a connection with you. A bond I made over the muzzle of a gun when you pointed it at me when you saw me. And it doesn’t matter if you want me. You still have me.”
A wave of intense emotion wells inside me, crashing over the jagged rocks of my heart. I don’t know where this journey will take me, but I’ll just follow Blake’s tide.
“I have you?” he asks so quietly I prepare myself for another rejection, but then he’s grabbing at my cheeks and pulling me down until our lips touch.
My hands settle on his flanks, then around him, and I wish he was out of his coat already so I can feel him better. I ignore the kettle long enough for the whistle to sing, and it sounds like fireworks to my ears, a colorful explosion above us as I greedily part his lips with my tongue.
I need him to feel the depths of my devotion. My hunger is insatiable but at least I get to taste his lips.
The broomstick drops from my hands, and Blake shivers, pushing into my arms as it hits the floor. I pull him with me to turn the gas off on the stove without taking my mouth from his, and his breath whispers between our faces when we move. He tastes of the sweet tea we got on the way here and of youthful desire, which cannot, and will not, be stopped.
“You smell so good,” Blake whispers as I maneuver around the kitchenette, only to stumble against the wall behind the side of the counter.
“So you still want me?” I utter, needy for reassurance after the spat we had after our first time together. I’m selfish enough to slide my hands to his ass, and it awakens so much lust in me, I’m already getting hard.
Blake whimpers, getting to his toes as I squeeze him, and there’s no faking the bliss flooding his features. He wants my touch too, and I roll us against the wall, so I have him sandwiched between me and the wooden logs. He trembles and all but submits by showing me his pale throat.
“Yes…”
I kiss his neck, then bite and suck, set on leaving my mark. We’ll stay here a while. No one but me will see. “I’d do this even knowing it’s another trick,” I mumble between one nibble and another, sliding my hands to his front just so I can get the damn coat off him.
“No trick. Just me,” Blake says, letting his hands descend my sides. The light is faint, but I still see that his cheeks grow redder by the second as he captures my gaze. “I want to—” He stalls, as if he lost his voice, but moments later, as I’m buried in his sweet neck, I feel him cup my bulge.
I groan like a bear awoken from winter sleep. “All yours. Bed?” My breath is getting raspy and I finally slide my hands under his coat. There are more layers. A hoodie, a T-shirt under it, but I’m that one step closer to his beautiful body.
He meets my gaze, but then he’s lowering himself, and I can barely breathe, because in my dreams I’ve had him kneel for me so many times already, and I can’t fathom that it’s happening in real life.