Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
His lips tease mine, fitting together perfectly, delving like he already knows me inside and out.
And he does, doesn’t he?
He’s had an iron grip on my heart for so long. Every kiss is just the key that opens my body.
He leaves me trembling, pressing so hard into him, letting him take me over, tease me, shiver me down.
I gasp as his teeth flirt with my lower lip, shifting from gentle grazing to stinging pressure.
As every stroke of his tongue leaves behind raw sensations like hot embers flying across my lips.
God, he tastes wild, so much vivid passion erupting behind his stoic face.
Even his beard drags against my cheeks, and as his tongue twines with mine, something flows inside me like liquid honey.
My blood thickens with desire.
These slick, hot, panting sounds slide between our lips, turning this into something achingly forbidden.
Kiss by steaming kiss, he shatters the walls of friendship, leaving two lovers tangled up in each other, in something burning.
Something that doesn’t know what it is.
Something that shreds me like paper.
Something with its own inertia we don’t have a prayer of stopping.
Oh my God.
Oh. My. Grant.
I’m so tingly and wet it hurts, melting for him helplessly, and it’s so amazing to feel his heart banging against his chest.
His pulse ticks against his throat as I run my hands over the hot, taut lines of his neck.
He inhales roughly, a human volcano building with pure sweet madness.
Is it bad that I like making him crazy?
Knowing I can torture him—that he’s not indifferent—that I’m all he’s ever wanted...
It’s enough to get a girl drunk with reckless thoughts.
When his huge, rough hands slip under my shirt, pushing it up to drag coarse skin over the small of my back, to clutch me against him, I’m willing to do anything.
Anything right here, right now, right in this cramped office.
Until there’s a sudden rapping at the door.
We both gasp, breaking apart like we’ve touched a live current.
Just in time as Mallory pokes her head in. “Captain Faircross? We’ve got a—oh. Oh, my.”
Ohhh, crap.
I fall out of Grant’s lap, torn between a humiliated giggle and the need to hide like a roach from sheer mortification.
Breathing hard, I brush my hand across my damp lips.
Grant looks worse, I think, wearing half my lipstick smeared around his mouth.
“Hi, Mallory,” I say shyly.
She just blinks at me before shaking her head with an indulgent smile.
“Welcome home, Ophelia.” Her gaze shifts to Grant. “We’ve got a pink problem again, Captain.”
Grant groans and presses his fingers into his eyes.
I can’t decide if I’m sad or relieved to see his usual control take over.
He’s already shuttering, back to being the gruff police captain, but I want to think there’s still a certain softness to him that wasn’t there before.
Or maybe he just looks really hot in shades of red.
“Again? Aw, hell. Didn’t we have another pink run just last week?”
“Pink problem?” I ask. It sounds vaguely familiar, but I don’t remember why until—oh, right. “You mean the Jacobins are still letting their pigs escape?”
“It’s a Redhaven tradition at this point. Like the running of the bulls, only it’s a pig stampede down Main Street at least once a month,” Grant snarls. “Fuck, I just got my car cleaned out after last time, too. If they don’t fix their fucking fences, I’m going to write them up and drop five pounds of pig shit back where it belongs. Right on their porches with their hogs. Fines might get the gears in their heads turning.”
Mallory laughs wildly and taps her mouth. “Oh, but you might need a tissue before you make that ultimatum, Captain Faircross! The rest of the team’s already en route.”
Then she closes the door and we’re alone again while Grant frowns, puzzled.
“Tissue?”
“Um... Grant.” I’m almost dying, biting back my laughter when he looks so adorably confused. With a loving sigh, I fish my compact out of the pocket of my jeans and flip it open to show him his reflection in the little round mirror. “See? It’s a good color on you.”
“Goddamn!” Grant gives me a disgusted look like he blames me, leaning over Chief Bowden’s desk to snatch up a few tissues from the dispenser. Leaning in, he squints at his reflection in my mirror and starts wiping at his mouth furiously. “Shit. If I go out there like this, people are really gonna wonder what I did to get those pigs into the car.”
“Grant!” I snicker. “You’re awful.”
“You only think so ’cause you’ve convinced yourself I’ve got no sense of humor. And maybe you like kissing awful men.”
Now I’m the one turning red.
“It just takes knowing you to get what you’re saying between the lines.” As he pulls back and tosses the balled-up tissue in the trash, I snap the compact closed with a smirk. “So, I have to let you go for pig duty, huh?”