Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
She grabs my hand in her excitement, and I feel the warmth of her palm all the way into my chest.
“Yes. They’re working on a reunification plan.”
“That’s amazing news.”
As if the heaven’s open, an angel raining good fortune down on me, she lifts up on her toes and presses a kiss to my lips.
It’s over much too soon, a rather platonic thank you than one filled with passion.
“I appreciate you telling me,” she says, beginning to pull her hand from mine.
I grip it harder, staring down at that connection like the lifeline that it is.
“Sylvie,” I whisper.
“Do you want to come to my house?” she asks as she looks up at me.
I should tell her no. I can tell from the look in her eyes what she’s wanting, maybe what she needs. Fuck, I need the same thing, but it’s only a fraction of what I want to share with this woman.
“Yes,” I answer before I can stop myself, because I know having the conversation I want to have in a damn parking lot isn’t the best place.
She may not see things my way at first, but she also isn’t physically strong enough to remove me from her home while I argue my case. Right now, she could drive off if she isn’t interested.
I can’t help but wonder if it’s a bad omen when she releases my hand despite the devious smile on her face that promises so many things.
Chapter 39
Sylvie
I know that nothing will ruin the mood more than me wrecking my car on the way back to my house, so I drive as safely as I can as my head swirls with plans.
I don’t bother pulling into the garage when I arrive, choosing to park in the driveway and rush toward the front door.
I’m pulling my shirt over my head as the roar of his motorcycle silences outside. I fucking ache for this man, and as much as I have argued to myself about how bad of an idea this is, I need what he has to offer. I know a just-sex relationship isn’t possible because of my feelings for him, but beggars can’t be choosers either.
I’ll deal with the aftermath tomorrow or the day after if I’m lucky enough to convince him to stick around a little longer than he may be planning.
His eyes widen when he steps inside without knocking, like he owns the place.
“Sylvie.” My name is a needy growl on his lips.
“You haven’t forgotten me then?” I tease.
His head shakes. “Not a chance. You’re always on my fucking mind.”
His declaration should make me feel good, but if it were true, then why the silence, the distance, the pain I’ve felt for weeks and weeks.
“Yeah?” I say as I pull down the zipper on my jeans.
I won’t let the ache in my chest derail the pleasure I know my body is going to feel.
“Want to tell me about those thoughts? I can do everything you’ve imagined.”
His eyes find mind, but I don’t see the desire I expect in them as he swallows.
“God, how I wish for those things to come true.”
My hands falter as I shove my jeans down because the man is confusing me.
“Are you challenging me?” I kick my jeans away, leaving me standing in nothing but mismatched underwear. I didn’t exactly see my day going this way, but from the way his eyes scan my body, he doesn’t seem disappointed about the white bra and pink panties.
He doesn’t speak as I step into him, his hands immediately resting on my hips.
My heart slows as I press my lips to his throat, his height preventing me from reaching his lips unless he allows it. He’s the embodiment of comfort, a touchstone that settles the pain I’ve felt in his absence.
“Kiss me,” I beg.
The man does not disappoint. His lips find mine as he lifts me from the floor, my legs circling his waist as we both moan at the contact we share.
He’s already hard, his strong hand on my lower back as he presses against me, and I take it as a win.
“Sylvie, wait.”
Tears burn behind my eyes at the rejection as he pulls his mouth away.
“I didn’t come over here to fuck you.”
His words don’t match his actions when he refuses to put me down as I try to wiggle away from him.
“I want to talk.”
“You want to talk dirty?” I hedge, trying to make a joke when my heart reminds me that it can’t take much more abuse at the hands of this man. “I’m game.”
He pulls his head back, a smile toying on his lips when I try to press my mouth to his.
With my hands on his shoulders, I push back, doing my best to create as much distance as I can manage.
His eyes drop to my chest, and even though I know I should run far from him and his manipulation, I reach behind me and release the clasp, letting the soft cotton tease my skin as I pull it down and toss it to the floor.