Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 151864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 759(@200wpm)___ 607(@250wpm)___ 506(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 759(@200wpm)___ 607(@250wpm)___ 506(@300wpm)
Being connected to someone has never felt so good.
Being inside a woman, both body and soul, has never felt so good.
This woman has elicited feelings from me I never dreamed could be. I feel wiped out, but so alive. Nothing could top this. Nothing could ever feel this good. I’ve never wanted something so fucking much, and more than that, I’ve never wanted something so much after actually having it. “Perfect chaos,” I wheeze, resting my cheek on her wet back, circling my hips into her arse. That was perfect fucking chaos.
Her entire upper body is sprawled atop the cabinet, heaving. “I like our chaos,” she whispers, sounding as exhausted as I feel.
“Do you see?” I turn my face and dot kisses across her back, brushing my lips from side to side delicately. It’s a turnabout from the frantic mess of sex we just had.
“I see,” she confirms. “How can something so amazing be a mistake?”
It’s a rhetorical question. This is no mistake. This is everything I want. “I love you,” I whisper against her skin, breathing her scent into the very center of me. “You’re everything I want, and I’m praying you let me have you.”
“You can have me,” she answers softly, and I look up her body to see her cheek squished against the wood, her eyes staring blankly across the room.
I don’t know where the doubt comes from, maybe her vacant expression, but she sounds almost defeated. “Why don’t you sound sure about that?” I ask, unable to hold the question back.
“I’ve never been surer about anything.” She closes her eyes and sighs. “I love you.”
Her confession should make me the happiest man alive, but there’s still something not right. Something amiss, and I don’t like it. She’s worried, I can sense it.
Slipping free on a small shudder, I pull her up and turn her around to face me, taking her face in my hands and hunkering down to get her eyes level with mine. Just so she can see the sincerity residing there. “You think I’ll hurt you.” I state it as a fact, as I’m certain it is.
She shakes her head feebly, looking away from me. “No.”
“Yes.” I shake her to get her attention again. “You said earlier you trusted me.” Is she having doubts?
She softens in my hold a little, smiling, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I do trust you, Ty. But do you trust me?”
Her counter question throws me off.
Do I trust her? We’ve both played the field. We’ve both indulged in the single life, and we’ve both had our reasons, which are ridiculously scary in their similarity. We were both fucked over in the past. We both need to trust again. She lied to me about last Friday, and we still haven’t talked about what she actually did. Nor what she did over the weekend. I think I’d be naïve to blindly trust her, given that. But, we hadn’t committed to each other then, so technically . . . Technically, she still lied. My jaw ticks as a result. But do I raise that now? And can I, given I had an indiscretion myself? Is Lainey’s question more about me believing in her and being prepared to get in the proverbial water with her without knowing all the facts? “I trust you, Lainey,” I say calmly but firmly, trying not to focus too much on what her sister said to me. About Lainey hurting me.
“You do?” Her disbelief surprises me, making that focus waiver.
“Of course I do. I’m all in, beautiful. I’ve already told you that. All in.”
She blinks rapidly, and something tells me it’s because she’s getting emotional. Then a tear escapes and confirms my thoughts.
I reach up and drag my thumb across the single drop, wiping it away. “Why are you upset?” I ask, as gently as I can.
“Because I don’t think I deserve you.” Her voice breaks, and she steps into my chest, hiding her face from me. Comforting her comes naturally.
“You daft thing,” I sigh into her hair and envelop her in my arms, my aim to make her feel as comfortable as possible, because she deserves that. After what she’s been through, she deserves everything and more. “Remember what you said to me the first night I met you? About your perfect man?”
“Yes.”
“That’s me. I’m Mr. Perfect, but I’m only your Mr. Perfect. Everything you want and need, I will give to you.” Lifting her, I walk us to my bedroom and into the bathroom, setting her on her feet by the tub.
She watches me closely as I run the water, add copious amounts of bubble bath, and set the towels to the side, ready for us when we get out. Once the bath is three-quarters full, I help her in and hitch an inquisitive eyebrow when she shifts to the end and motions for me to place myself between her thighs. “You want me to lie on you?” I step in when she nods and sink beneath the water, my back coming down onto her front. “Am I too heavy?”