Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
He shook his head and bit his lower lip hard enough that the sharp metallic taste of blood burst through him.
Hope dropped her head forward, giving him more access to her neck and shoulders. He took advantage. Working his fingers into her muscles, he stared at her smooth skin. God, he couldn’t come up with a name for the color.
Brown was too boring and who knows, he could be waxing poetic, but he swore her skin had flecks of gold in it. A shimmer.
Definitely waxing poetic.
“Keep this up and you may never get rid of me. Fair warning.”
Mitchell inched closer, making sure her ass settled at the V of his thighs, pressing against him. “I’ll keep that in mind. Harder?”
The low moan she expelled ran up his cock and tugged.
“Yes, harder.”
He would be broke if he heard that voice on a sex line. As sure as he knelt behind Hope Roman right now, he’d willingly spend all his money to hear her moan and groan. He listened, digging his fingers in a bit more. Mitchell didn’t want to hurt her, so he paid attention when she flinched and backed off slightly.
“Tell me about you, Mitchell Anderson.”
Old suspicions burst to life and exploded in front of him. He tensed. Hope’s touch centered him and he blinked to find one of her hands resting on his wrist.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry.”
Didn’t she, though?
He needed to keep distance between them. “Not much to tell,” he said, removing his touch from her body and sliding off the bed. “I have one sister and my mother.”
Mitchell waited for her to bemoan him stopping the massage but all she did was take her hair down from the bun it had been in and readjust herself on the mattress, sitting so she was against the headboard.
Her smile, while slightly strained, remained. “That’s nice. I don’t have any siblings. Always thought it would have been nice to have someone around.” Her shoulders hunched forward until she corrected her posture. “Not be so alone.”
“Do you need to call anyone and tell them where you are?”
He beat himself up about that. How hadn’t he thought of it sooner?
“No. I don’t have anyone.” She picked at the quilt, not holding his gaze.
Interesting how this subject kept her from staring into his eyes but when she was apologizing, she didn’t flinch.
Damn it, he couldn’t stay away from her. On the bed, he sat facing her and dug his short nails into his palm to keep from reaching out to her.
“That can’t be true. Maybe no family, but friends? There must be a few people who would be worried about you.”
She flattened her lips and hesitated, only to shake her head like she’d just talked herself out of sharing something with him. “Not a one.”
“I’ve not known you long, Hope, but I would be worried.”
She rolled her eyes and leaned forward enough to pat his hand briefly. Then she put back the distance he’d thought—wrongly—that he wanted…needed between them.
“You wouldn’t even know my name if we met in different circumstances. I’m not your type of woman to hang out with, if you were even the kind of guy to hang out with one. Personally, I find it hard to believe you are. You don’t strike me as a guy who has women friends.”
“What does that mean?”
“Really?” She crossed her legs and smoothed her palm down her thigh before clasping her hands together. Hope canted her head to the left and blinked. “How many people do you have in your life who look like me? And how many of those are because you went out of your way to speak to them, not because someone else in your life introduced you to them?”
He opened and shut his mouth. Fuck!
“I also bet that how many of the women you dated in the past, and perhaps married, if David got it right, looked like me. I can answer that. None. I’m willing to bet almost anything I own that your women were more than half my size. And not even close to my color.”
Unease filled his stomach but he couldn’t refute it. Not a single word she’d uttered. Why not? Because her words were complete fact.
This time, her smile was less humorous and more knowing. “That’s what I thought.” Her tone wasn’t full of anger or hurt, only acceptance. “Don’t worry about it, Mitchell. I’m not angling to be anything special in your life. Just pointing out that because you’ve been allowed to realize how fucking awesome a person I am doesn’t mean a lot of people I meet don’t have preconceptions about me. I don’t fit society’s idea of beauty and I’m okay with that. You know why? Because I’m happy with how I am. I’m happy with me. I’ll never be the size or the color of the women you normally have on your arm.”