Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 143842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
The chewing would be so nice.
But it was my conscience I would never survive.
My jaw unlocked again when he suddenly leaned all the way over the seat, the oxygen gone as he pushed into my space, his unrelenting stare pinning me to the spot when he reached around and pulled the buckle across my front.
Surprise jutted my chest.
Crap. I’d been too busy ogling him to take the time to remember to buckle myself.
I couldn’t think straight.
Couldn’t move.
The buckle clicked into place, and he never looked away when he rumbled, “I guess I have to do everything myself, don’t I?”
There was a gleam to those eyes then, sparks of gold and flickers of light right as that smirk edged up at the corner of his mouth. He was nothing but a toil of charm and mayhem. An easy, tempting danger that would be so easy to slip into.
I hoped I wasn’t panting when I peered over at him as he pulled out of the parking lot and out onto the road.
This burly, mountain of a man who drove beneath the cover of night.
“You seem to be taking care of me a whole lot,” I murmured into the wisping darkness of the cab.
He sent me a wicked grin. “It’s my pleasure to take care of you, Shortcake.”
Suggestion flooded the words.
Cocky Cowboy.
A country station played softly from the radio, and the stars were heavy and dense where they hung from the blackened expanse of sky, surrounding us like a fuzzy blanket that we might be wrapped in too tightly together.
We made it through Time River and took to the twisting, two-lane road that wove through the forest and led to Hendrickson.
Soaring evergreens hugged us on each side and the stars glinted overhead, the engine a low hum as we traveled. We were held in this tranquil peace that still had knitted me into disorder.
We chatted about inane things that still seemed to matter.
How my first couple weeks of work had been and vice versa. The project he’d been surprised to win the contract to, how he’d tossed in his bid thinking it’d be a long shot and how proud he was of his team, and for the first time, there was a deep humbleness that penetrated his voice.
I couldn’t look away from him the entire trip. My intent focused on his face. On his jaw and his brow and his nose, his strong profile that I thought would forever be emblazoned in my mind.
I cherished every shift and intonation of his voice.
Rapt on his words.
His flirtiness.
His kindness.
“You’re a beautiful man, Cody Cooper,” I finally whispered as he was making the left into our neighborhood.
Inside and out.
I realized he let very few people see the inside, but I thought maybe he’d allowed me to all those years ago.
He glanced my way, and a dark chuckle rolled up his masculine throat and flooded the space. “You should probably stop looking at me that way if you want to remain friends, Hailey. Not when the only thing I want to do is reach out and touch you.”
His face was illuminated by the bare light that glowed from the exterior lamps of the houses we passed, and those eyes raked over me where I’d turned to press my back to the door so I could see him better.
Greed filled the cab. So intense that I felt it coil through the air and crawl across my skin.
Like those hands were tapping out a rhythm on my flesh.
Exploring.
Needy and hot.
I pressed my thighs together, hoping it might be enough to assuage the ache that had been building all night, desperate for the type of pleasure I knew only a man like him could give.
The first person who had ever made me long.
Ache and want.
And I wondered…
Cody groaned and his jaw ticked, his knuckles whitening as he tightened his hold on the wheel. “Yeah, you really need to stop looking at me that way.”
He pulled to the curb in front of my house. Here, it was dark, his face in the shadows, his massive body a silhouette. My eyes devoured the outline of his perfect shape.
His big body roiled in sharp restraint, this constant wave of strength that kept battering against me.
He continued to hold onto the steering wheel like it might be the one thing that kept him contained.
The only thing grounding him when the world had floated away from us.
Each thirsting for what we knew better than to chase, but right then, after everything that had happened tonight, all rationale was erased.
“I don’t think I can stop.” There I went—a fool who was begging for it.
Heartbreak.
Because this man had already broken me a long time ago, and he didn’t even know it. Self-reproach writhed, a murmuring that howled from the abyss of my misdeeds and mistakes, though the shout of it was drowned out by the need that howled.