Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 119092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
I closed my eyes.
Angry Ruger? Fine. Horny Ruger? I’d gotten used to that, too. But Ruger as a gentle lover? I didn’t have room for that in my head, not if I wanted to survive and move forward with my life. I started rocking back and forth on him, the movement ever-so-slight but almost painfully pleasurable. His hand dropped from my face to my hip, urging me to go faster, so I did.
It didn’t take long to bring him back to the edge. At some point I leaned forward on his chest for leverage, digging my nails into his pecs, which seemed to turn him on even more. Ruger liked a touch of pain, I decided, so I did my best to crush him with my inner muscles.
I’m generous that way.
I was close to coming myself when he lost patience, rolling me over and taking control again. He grabbed my legs, shoving them up and over his shoulders. Then he pounded me hard until I screamed out my orgasm.
Ruger followed right behind, and when he came, he called out my name.
I fell asleep with him wrapped around me, both of us on our sides, one of his hands resting lightly against my stomach. He’d gone downstairs and grabbed a blanket, covering the hay and creating a nest for us.
At some point I woke to find Ruger’s hand between my legs, slowly stroking me as I drifted. He rolled me to my stomach, spread my legs, and slid into my body gently and carefully. I sighed, the delicious pressure building and exploding with a subtlety I’d never experienced before.
Then he wrapped himself around me again and I drifted back into sleep. I woke up when my cell rang at six the next morning, finding myself alone on my futon, surrounded by his smell. I didn’t recognize the name and the caller hung up. Fucking wrong number.
I rolled to my side and saw the empty pizza box, still sitting on the coffee table.
Damn. What the hell was I supposed to do with a situation like this? Insane. All of it.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“God, I love dancing,” Kimber said, sucking on a cigarette. It was just shy of midnight on Friday, and we stood on the sidewalk outside a club in downtown Spokane. I had a nice buzz going.
“My feet are gonna hurt so bad, but totally worth it,” I agreed, swaying a little. I felt my cheeks flush, which was funny, so I started laughing. Kimber shook her head at me.
“I can’t take you anywhere,” she said gravely. “Lightweight. Where the hell did Em go? I want to check out this guy of hers. I thought the deal was we’d look him over and decide whether he’s worth her time. She’s cheating.”
“No shit. Bitch. I hate her.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Kimber replied, stabbing the air with her smoke for emphasis. “How am I supposed to live the single life vicariously if I don’t get any details?”
I shook my head and shrugged mournfully.
“I’m doing my part. I tell you everything.”
“And don’t think I don’t appreciate it,” she said, tearing up slightly. We gave each other a drunken hug.
We’d hit the first bar around ten, and by ten thirty Em had disappeared to meet her online hottie, Liam. She was supposed to bring him inside to meet us, but they snuck off to a bar down the street instead. I would’ve suspected kidnapping and murder by eleven thirty, when we moved on to the next club, but she’d been sending us regular text messages that made it clear she was enjoying her evening.
Long story short—Liam was gorgeous, we’d get to meet him in a while, she was definitely going to sleep with him, and she was pretty sure he could handle her dad. Apparently Liam was Em’s perfect man.
She promised not to leave the other bar without us, so we called it good.
“Hopefully they’re in some corner booth making out,” I said glumly.
“Not too much,” Kimber said darkly. “If she fucks him before I give my approval, she’s losing her margarita privileges.”
Talking about making out reminded me of Ruger, and thinking of Ruger made me want to drink more. I still couldn’t believe I’d fucked him. Again. I couldn’t shake the man. Thank God we didn’t need to be back in Coeur d’Alene until noon, because I had a lot more alcohol to drink. Kimber’s husband was definitely taking one for the team tonight, watching both kids. I needed to bake him cookies or something …
“Is it creepy that I want to bake for your husband?” I asked her. She burst out laughing and I started laughing, too, and then my phone buzzed.
EM: I want to go back to the hotel. He’s defintely THE ONE
I read it and squeed, handing the phone over to Kimber. She started thumb-typing furiously.