Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 111860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
She had a flash of the way he’d gazed up at her as he knelt before her after the attack, hands warm on her thighs, and then of the way he’d looked when he described the songbird in South America. Both those expressions were flitting over his features now—concern, peace, focus, but with the addition of naked desire. God, he was so expressive when he wanted to be. Or maybe when he couldn’t help himself. And those eyes, those sleepy, sexy eyes that nearly sent her spinning.
He gave a twist of his hips that sent a shock wave of pleasure to her toes, and she gasped, wrapping her legs around him and tilting her hips so he could go even deeper. “Lennon,” he whispered, a plea of his own. And she didn’t want this to end but could feel the pinpricks of pleasure dancing between her legs and tightening her belly.
It only took three more strokes before she came, shattering apart and then slowly coming back together, blinking up at him as he increased his pace, finally shattering, too, as he groaned and panted and pressed his face into her neck, rocking slowly and then stilling with a pleasure-filled sigh.
They spent long minutes just breathing together, as she ran her fingernails over his back and he feathered his lips along her shoulder. When he leaned back to look at her, he appeared just a little bit drunk, and she breathed out a short laugh. He kissed her lips and then rolled to the side, gathering her in his arms, her cheek pressed against his warm skin.
She didn’t remember falling asleep, but the next time she woke, a slip of gray was showing around the blind. She extricated herself from Ambrose’s arms and scooted to the other side of the bed, grabbing her discarded robe as she stood.
She used the bathroom, and when she came back out into the bedroom, Ambrose was sitting on the side of the bed, fully dressed, his features shadowy in the low light of dawn. “I should go,” he said softly. He looked up at her, and she detected the uncertainty in his expression, and perhaps just a bit of regret. He stood, running his hand through his tousled hair as she fumbled to pull her robe all the way closed to her neck, disappointment and a drip of embarrassment making her feel slow and gawky. She wasn’t sure what to say, didn’t know if she should ask him to stay. He’d obviously wanted to be with her—she knew she hadn’t imagined his response. But she’d also begged him at a certain point.
“Okay,” she said. What else could she say? And whether he’d responded to her or not, he’d only come over here to make sure she was okay and that she wasn’t alone. She felt slightly rejected, and a little embarrassed, but she was also still exhausted. And however this had ended, he had made her feel better. Talking had helped. The rush of lust had helped, too, and so had the orgasm. Her muscles felt lax, her emotions settled. She’d slept like a rock in his arms for several hours, and she knew she’d have no problem going back to sleep. And truthfully, he was probably right to leave now rather than stay longer. What happened had shaken her, and she hadn’t had much time at all to process it. She needed to sleep as long as her body told her to, and she needed to find her own equilibrium.
He paused, his heavy gaze moving over her face, cataloging. He gave a succinct nod.
God, this was awkward. And yet, she still couldn’t bring herself to regret it. She was halfway back to sleep already, and she wanted nothing more than to fall back into bed.
She walked him to the door, and when he got there, he turned back around quickly, opened his mouth to say something, closed it, and then leaned forward and kissed her softly on her mouth. It looked like he was having an internal argument with himself, but finally he said, “Get some more sleep, Lennon. Goodbye.” And then he turned and walked away, and she closed the door behind him, confused about why his goodbye had sounded permanent.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The elevator came to a bumpy halt as it stopped on the third floor of the hotel Ambrose was currently staying in. He stepped out, adjusting the grocery bags in his hands and heading down the long carpeted hallway toward his room, around a corner and down another short hall. He’d asked for something as far from the elevator as possible, though, and they’d certainly honored his request.
His mind was filled with Lennon, with the way she’d felt beneath him the night before, the memory of her quiet moans, the echoes of which still made heat flare through his veins. It wasn’t only attraction he felt for her—if he hadn’t known that before, he knew it now. He could fall for her so easily. He probably already had.