Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 133682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
It’s getting hard, too, to balance the lies I tell people. Fable’s mother. Bibi. Leo. But if this were real, I wouldn’t have to lie anymore.
But that’s a dangerous thought. Besides, it won’t happen.
I try to shake it off when my attention snags on the gazebo. I do a double take.
Fable’s no longer chatting with friends. Instead, one of the lumberjacks is talking with her. And he’s standing far too close for my taste. That won’t do. “Excuse me,” I say to Leo, setting down the glass on the makeshift cart.
With the lumberjack in my crosshairs, I stride toward them. A wave of possessiveness slams into me, filling every cell. I grit my teeth. My jaw tenses. I’m a predator, ready to fight. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, but whether we’re real or fake, there’s no way I’m letting another man come between us.
The lumberjack seems oblivious to my approach, still engrossed in his conversation with Fable. Fable’s eyes sparkle with interest—but it’s only polite interest. When she spots me, she gives me a weak smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes as she shakes her head at him.
I move faster. When I arrive, she pastes on a smile and says to me, “Joe was just telling me why the New York Leopards are a better football team than the Renegades, and I was schooling him. Then he wanted to discuss it over a beer.”
I drape an arm around her, tugging her against my side. “My girlfriend is not available to have a beer with you. She’s with me. Only with me.”
The man holds up his hands. “Chill, man.”
Are you kidding me? I narrow my eyes. “It’s not a chill, man situation. It’s a she said no situation,” I say calmly and clearly as I stand my ground.
“How do you know she said no?”
The nerve. The fucking nerve. I inch closer to him, making sure there’s no mistake when I say coldly, “Because I know.”
He blinks, swallows, then holds up his hands again and backs off. “Sorry, dude.”
When he leaves, Fable turns to me, her eyes etched with shock. “Possessive much?”
“Yes,” I say, still breathing fire.
Her breath seems to catch. “I had it under control,” she says, but her voice is wobbly.
“Of course you did, honey,” I say, gentling my tone for her. “But so did I.”
“You did,” she says, breathily. She takes a beat, studying my face, seeming to weigh something up. “Like I said earlier, you’re cute when you’re jealous.”
“Cute?”
“Like you were about Brady. But you really don’t have to worry about my ex. I’m over him.”
I knew that, yet I didn’t know how much I needed to hear that from her till now. “Good. That’s very good,” I say, relieved and maybe a little elated.
She slides closer to me, runs a hand over the top button on my coat. “But I’m not over the way you like to control things,” she says in a sensual tone.
“You’re not over it?” I ask, picking up what she’s putting down.
“Not at all.” She hesitates, then her eyes flicker with avid interest. “I think I’d like to know more about what you like to control.”
Fuck all the other guys. I seize the moment and cup her cheeks. “Let me take you back to the chalet and show you.”
36
SHE COMES PREPARED
Wilder
I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.
But I don’t want to rush a damn minute of my Christmas fantasy. So even though I’m dying to push her up against the wall and devour her lips the second we return to the cabin, I point to the hallway instead.
“Go to our room. Take off the sweater and jeans, strip down to just your bra and panties. And then I’m going to remind you that you’re mine till the end of the year. I’m the one who takes you out for drinks. I’m the one who flirts with you. I’m the one who makes you laugh. And I kiss you and I fuck you and then make you come more times than you think you can handle.”
She trembles. “How many do you think I can handle?”
I lean in close to her, catching a hint of her strawberry and champagne scent, barely brushing my lips to hers. “We’ll find out soon,” I say in a whisper against her sweet mouth. “But I have faith in you. You can handle a lot.”
She gasps. “I think I can too.”
“I had a feeling.” I tip my forehead toward the hall and in my sternest voice, I say, “Now go wait for me. And that’s an order.”
She scurries down the hall, tugging her sweater over her head as she does. When she reaches the door she stops, tosses the garment dramatically up in the air, then catches it. She juts out a hip, striking a sexy pose, and flashing me her candy-cane-striped bra.