Total pages in book: 213
Estimated words: 202770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1014(@200wpm)___ 811(@250wpm)___ 676(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 202770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1014(@200wpm)___ 811(@250wpm)___ 676(@300wpm)
“Jax North,” she whispers, and my name on her lips, it matters. It matters so fucking much, but I know what she’s telling me. She’s giving me what I wanted last night. She’s present. She doesn’t give a damn about names or families. This is me and her, and her and me.
“Emma Knight,” I whisper, letting her know I understand. Letting her know I’m right here with her.
She catches my legs with hers, holding onto me, telling me that she’s not letting go. I cup her backside, the same cheek I laid my palm on, not once, but three times, and squeeze, lifting her, pumping into her. I’m different with Emma, I’m kissing her, emotions pumping through me right along with the lust and adrenaline, and I do nothing to hide from the intimacy. Emma is that sweetness. She’s my passion, my escape, and yet, she’s also my way home. And when she gasps, her sex tightening around me, I’m right there with her. I’m out of control, and it’s as damn perfect as anything I’ve ever known.
I pump into her, push harder, deeper, tensing with the intensity of my release, shuddering. I fade in and out of the room, my head tilting back, my release ripped from my body in the most brutally perfect way possible. I collapse on top of Emma, holding my weight on my arms and rolling her to her side.
“Holy hell, woman,” I murmur again, tilting her head back and staring down at her. “You—Fuck—That’s all I can say, you.”
She presses her hand to my face. “You, Jax North.”
I rest my forehead against hers and mold her close. “Emma Knight. I’ll get you tissues.”
“Don’t go,” she says. “Not yet. I just—I’m not ready for the rest of the world yet.”
I reach above me and grab her some tissues, pressing them between us and reluctantly pulling out. “How about that?”
She catches my leg and snuggles closer. “You’re still here. So that works.” Her head settles on my shoulder, and I stroke her hair. And just like that, she’s asleep. Just like that, I realize that I was wrong when I thought she didn’t trust me. Emma does, in fact, trust me. I need to earn that trust. Confession time is coming.
Chapter sixty-seven
Emma
Jax’s heartbeat thrums next to my ear while his phone rings, a hum that seems to expand and grow, forcing me out of the sweet haze of this man and my slumber. “Someone found us,” I murmur. “And I hate that someone.”
Jax laughs, a deep rumble of sexy male laughter, before he rolls us enough to kiss me. “I’d rather just stay here and be naked with you.”
His phone stops ringing and mine starts. “It’s like a conspiracy to get our clothes on.”
He smiles. “Yes. It is. And it’s downright criminal.” My stomach growls, and he laughs again. “Hungry?”
“What gives you that idea?” I ask, feigning innocence.
“The monster in your belly told me. I think I better feed you. We never made it to the restaurant and they close early.” He kisses me and rolls off the couch to grab his pants, offering me a perfect view of his nice, tight backside. Which reminds me of his hand on my backside, and my cheeks, the other cheeks, heat. I liked it. I liked it a lot when my past defies that response, but then this is Jax, and I have an instinct to trust him. I want to be with this man. I want to live with him. I want to just say yes. I think I’m going to do it. By the time I’ve come to this conclusion, Jax is dressed in his pants, minus his jacket, his shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, and he’s scooping up my clothes. “You, woman,” he says, kneeling in front of me and setting them in my lap, “need to get dressed.” His gaze, hot and heavy, rakes over my naked breasts, my nipples puckering under his inspection before his eyes find mine. “Before I get undressed again.”
“Is that supposed to motivate me to get dressed or stay as I am?”
His lips curve, placing a smile on his beautiful mouth that radiates through his eyes. He has beautiful eyes, so blue, a sea of blue, instead of the ice of that man he calls Echo. I could drift away in this man’s stare and never want to be found. “How about I motivate you with a chef’s creation?” he suggests. “Eggs. I make good eggs. Great eggs even.”
My smile is instant. “Eggs?”
“It’s about all I make well, but the good news is that I have eggs and that means we can hide out here without starving. Even better, I have all of the good stuff that makes eggs better, like cheese.”
“Eggs and cheese,” I say. “Sounds pretty good to my stomach right now. Do you also have coffee?”