Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
“I’m getting close, baby,” he said, looking for a spot to pull over. “Come with me.”
She groaned again and worked herself faster. Sped herself up until she was bobbing her head furiously.
He jerked the car to a stop on the side of the road, leaned back as the pleasure crested, and then groaned long and low. She shuddered even as she drank him down, her hair in his hand.
He closed his eyes in the aftermath. The glove box opened, Jess getting something to clean herself up with, and then he felt a wet wipe on him.
“I can do it,” he grinned, opening his eyes now and taking over.
Once everything was squared away and they were back on the road, she rubbed his shoulder and then put her hand at the nape of his neck, clearly wanting to be closer than they could be with him driving.
“Diana said she’s never seen me look happier,” Jess mused, pointing to get him to turn back toward their Airbnb. “That she’s never seen me look more in love.”
He felt her glow to match her words, her thumb stroking his skin.
“I think she’s also afraid of you a bit.” She laughed. “You make her nervous.”
“I got that impression. I see why she didn’t make it as an Ivy House heir.”
“She wouldn’t have taken the magic.” Jess leaned her head back on her seat and looked out the window. “She wouldn’t have wanted the responsibility. Money wouldn’t have swayed her. I definitely didn’t take anything away from her.”
“Is that what you’ve been thinking?”
“No. It just randomly occurred to me while we were chatting.” She sighed. “It was nice to see her. I’ve missed having friends who are more my speed. Or what my speed used to be. But things are…complicated. My whole world has changed. In the years to come, I won’t be able to explain to her or anyone else why I’m not aging. Today, my explanation of why you were leaving the coffee shop was absolutely terrible. She probably thinks you’re in the Mafia or something. I don’t know. This is all so much harder than I was thinking it would be, and we both know I’m potentially in danger all the time…” She shook her head. “It won’t be safe to be around her. I won’t even entertain the idea of her kids coming around. I could have her at Ivy House, I guess, but she hates that house. I doubt she’ll want to visit.”
“What are you saying?”
She sighed again. “I just don’t know how our friendship can stay consistent, you know? I’m worried about our future as friends.”
He placed his hand on her thigh. “You have some time before the aging thing becomes a problem. If we can get Momar out of the way, things will slow down. Let’s not write her off just yet.”
She turned her face toward him, her smile soft. “Matt always tried to push my friends away. Here you are, trying to help me hang on to them.”
“I’m not threatened by your friends or insecure in your love and affection for me.”
“I know,” she whispered, gazing at him for a long moment. “But speaking of that clown, I’d better give him the bad news.”
“Why do you sound so giddy?”
“Because it’ll ruin his day. Why do you sound so glum?”
Austin grinned. “Because I was looking forward to meeting him.”
EIGHT
Mr. Tom
This made twice today that Mr. Tom had not been allowed to escort the miss on an errand. Or to storm the castle, as the case may be. First coffee—she’d forgotten to grab him a cappuccino—and now to see the shifters. No matter. He would be guarding the most important thing in the miss’s life: her son.
It was Mr. Tom’s job to make sure the young boy had everything he needed and then some. To spoil him, as the case may be. He could do a much better job than any grandmother, that was for sure.
“Do you have everything?” he asked as they pulled up to the curb of an unoriginal establishment in a cultivated bore of an area.
“Yeah,” Master Jimmy replied.
Mr. Tom put the ridiculous Porsche in park. The ride was terrible. The seat made his butt hurt. Master Jimmy loved it, though, and that was all Mr. Tom cared about.
“New game console for the lulls when your dad is gone?” Mr. Tom pressed.
“Yes,” Master Jimmy said, staring straight ahead, not reaching for the door handle.
“New VR gear for when he is there and you would rather escape to your room?”
“Yes, but you guys got me one last time. You didn’t need to get me another one.”
“The second installment of your favorite game is only available on this new one. Plus, it’s lighter and better for your head.”
Master Jimmy twisted his mouth to the side. Who could argue with logic?