Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
“Brock. God. More.”
I wish I were a stronger man.
But when the woman you thought you’d lost asks you to hammer her into the next century, you don’t argue back.
I kiss her again, growling into her mouth, no brakes on my rhythm now.
Her limbs tangle around me desperately as I move inside of her, my speed and size lifting her up and slamming her deeper into the mattress.
Every stroke becomes a desperate race to the finish, and I—
Fuck!
There’s almost no warning when I blow inside her. She sets me off that much, making my balls hurl fire.
I was put on this Earth to fill this woman. To mark her. To anchor her to my soul.
And the way she clenches and rakes her nails down my back and tries to scream says I’ve done my job.
We come together in a scalding red silence that ruins me right along with her.
I’ll never be the same.
I’ll never fuck like this with anyone else. No one except this angel who wrings my balls dry.
I’ll never fucking let her leave me again.
That psycho realization still torches my brain when I finally pull out and crash down next to her, leveling one sticky-sweet kiss after another on her lips until we both pass out.
In the morning, we sit together with hot coffee and these dangerously tasty blueberry scones she whipped up.
Even Andy is a fan, taking every opportunity to whine for crumbs.
Yeah, yeah, I know the feeling.
She smiles at me over her mug. “So, have you seen the Scottsdale video?”
“Who in America hasn’t?” I sigh.
“I’m working on it, but I’m having a hard time.”
“You and everybody else in Marketing,” I say, biting into another scone.
“Do you think it’s legit?”
“Hell no, but I have people for investigations. If I can prove it, Finch is fucking dead—legally,” I add. I almost hate that I have to remind her I don’t go around slaughtering people with former Soviet hit men out of habit.
The assholes after Vanessa were a special case.
“That girl is the same age as my little sister. If it’s true, I almost feel bad trying to bury it... I know we should, but you have to ditch that manager.”
“I’m still waiting on a name from HR. If it’s true, he’s gone in a heartbeat,” I growl. “I don’t need anyone working for me who talks to people like worms—especially a minor.”
It’s such a bright, beautiful morning, we finish our coffee outside. Andy flies out for a bathroom break, racing across the freshly cut lawn.
“I hate seeing you stressed. I was thinking we should take a trip. Clear our heads and get out of town,” she whispers, reaching for my hand.
“Paris? Tokyo? Or would you prefer somewhere domestic?”
She scrunches up her face and laughs so sweetly it hurts. “Jeez, dude, I meant a road trip. I found this cool little cabin in an ocean town in Oregon. It’s not that far, just a few hours.”
Andy comes leaping to my side with a loud woof!
I guess that decides it then.
“What about the PR hell?” I ask.
She rests a hand on my arm, gazing into my eyes. “We can keep working, but you need to relax a little. It’s just two days.”
The way she kisses me makes it damn near impossible to argue.
“Sunshine, if I’m with you for a whole weekend, the last thing I’ll do is relax. Even if that doesn’t mean work.”
“Last night was fun,” she admits. “I could always use more.”
Now she’s speaking my language.
21
Company Ink (Piper)
I try to stop my heart from leaping right out of my chest.
It’s no big deal.
It’s just a warm, sunny weekend at the beach.
It’s just a break from reality with a gorgeous, complicated man and his adorable sausage dog.
It’s just a man I’m hopelessly falling for.
When we finally park the SUV he’s rented by the little cabin and I step out to stretch my legs, I’m instantly back in Lanai. The warm sand and rolling waves rival Hawaii, and so does the tingly glow he breathes into me with every glance.
“Enjoying the view?” he whispers against my neck, grabbing my shoulders.
I melt into his grasp and tilt my head, staring up into his sparkling blue eyes.
God, this man.
He has no idea how exquisite the view really is.
And just before we kiss, Andy unleashes a flurry of barks from his carrier.
“I think you’d better take someone for a walk,” I tease, turning in his arms and brushing my lips against his.
The sausage barks his agreement.
“See?” I giggle.
Biting back a smile, Brock marches over and opens the kennel once he’s got the little beast leashed. After he’s had his potty break and sniffed every flower under the soaring cedar trees in front of the cabin, we start collecting our luggage.
Brock barrels through the front door with his hands full and drops the bags just inside the door.