Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
He strides back into the bedroom, still naked as the day he was born. Though a whole lot bigger and hotter and all the rest. I’m busy searching for the sheet or duvet or something that will provide some cover when his hands burrow beneath my back and legs.
He lifts me up into his arms once again. There’s no real expression on his face. Or not one I can read. His golden hair is in disarray and he is quite possibly the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I’m not saying my heart skips a beat, but if I experienced cardiac abnormalities, he would definitely be the cause.
“Connor,” I say in a friendly yet neutral tone of voice, “what’s going on?
“Shower.”
“Right.” I wrap my arms around his neck. He watches me with a gaze both sure and steady. Here is a man who has recently come and is at peace with the world. There’s nothing deeper happening here. And I can relax.
Then he frowns and says, “Sorry if I was too rough. I just…I got a little…you know what I mean.”
“You weren’t too rough. It was great.”
His smile is pure male satisfaction. “Good.”
“Are you going to carry me around from now on?”
“Maybe. Is that a problem?”
I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyelids and just breathe him in. The feel of his warm skin and the forest and sea scent of him. It soothes me on a level I didn’t know existed. Deeper than bone deep. Like he speaks to something hidden down in my soul. “No, it’s not.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The voice coming from the kitchen the next morning is familiar. Though I sure as heck didn’t expect to hear it. But my favorite narrator, Andi Arndt, does amazing work. “Oh good,” I say. “You’ve reached the first sex scene.”
“Should I take notes?”
“I mean…there’s always room for improvement.”
Connor smiles and turns off the audiobook playing over the speaker from his cell. Music soon starts up instead. “Grandma recommended this one since the hero is a mechanic and all. She said Noor really enjoyed it and gave it a high spice rating. There was a lot of cackling while she explained in detail what that meant. I prefer not knowing what my grandmother’s friends find sexually stimulating.”
“Your life is very hard.”
He nods. “Yeah.”
“You don’t have to read my books, you know.”
“I know I don’t have to. I want to.”
“Okeydokey.”
He’s standing in the galley kitchen only wearing a pair of worn-out jeans. Something is on the stove, cooking in a cast-iron frying pan, and it smells interesting. However, it’s the scent of coffee that lured me out of bed. He’s obviously been up for a while. I remember waking with him wrapped around me. Such a cuddler. But three rounds of sex and all the excitement and emotional turmoil of last night wore me out. The clock shows ten and I’m not surprised. Sundays were made for sleeping in.
His gaze runs over the tee I borrowed and down my bare legs. And there he stops and frowns. “Are you okay? You look like you’re walking funny?”
“I am not,” lies my lying tongue.
“You sure about that?”
“Yes.”
He raises his brows and stares at me for a moment. But eventually he turns back to the stove, pushing things around in the pan with a wooden spoon. A half-dressed man who can cook and make coffee is worth waking up for. This I know to be true.
I grab a cushion off the sofa to put on the stool at the end of the kitchen counter before sitting down. Hard wood doesn’t seem like such a good idea right now. Which is amusing since hard wood got me into this mess. So maybe the muscles in my thighs and calves and basically everywhere got a workout last night. Ava was right about him having an appetite. And I am only too pleased to be the one to sate it. But a break from sex for a half a day or so seems like a sensible idea.
Insert happy sigh here. The cushion is so soft on my delicate nether regions. Thank goodness for that.
Meanwhile, I look up to find Connor smirking like a fiend. “I could give you a massage if that would help? Or drive you back to your place so you could have a soak in the bath?”
“No, thank you,” I say primly. “And get that look off your face.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He pours me a cup of coffee and sets the mug in front of me. Along with sugar and creamer, of course. “For you.”
“Thanks.”
The way his lips twitch. He is absolutely biting back a smile. What a jerk. “You kept telling me harder.”
“I know I did.”
“You were kind of insistent about it, if I remember correctly.” He scratches at the stubble lining his stupid handsome jaw. “Should I ignore you when you say that next time? When you ask me to go harder? For your own sake…”