Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
I plan to spend the rest of my life making up for the mistakes I made when I was too immature and too selfish to know that what I was doing to protect myself was hurting her.
We've lost so much time, but there's no better time to start making amends than the present.
Chapter 39
Riley
How is it possible that all my dreams are coming true on the same day?
I have a real chance to make my business successful without having to leave town.
The man I've always craved is telling me he loves me and wants a forever with me.
It all feels too good to be true, as if none of it is real, but the warmth of his palms on my skin tells me otherwise.
"I have so much to tell you," I say when he breaks our kiss and begins to run his lips down my neck.
He pauses, his breath rushing past his lips as if he has run a marathon.
"Baby," he says, a hint of frustration in his tone, and it makes me smile.
To be wanted so badly by his man makes every cell in my body ache for him.
"Can it wait a few minutes?"
"A few minutes is all I get?" I tease with a sly smile.
"If you're lucky," he answers. "I could blow in my jeans right now with just one wayward thought."
"I know better," I say, taking a step back so my hand can run down the front of his jeans.
His breaths grow even more ragged, but he drops his hands to his sides, letting me take over completely.
His tongue skates out, tracing his bottom lip, and it might be one of the sexiest things I've ever seen.
I ignore the whispers in my head that are trying to convince me that this is all too good to be true. Even if a heartache is coming, I'm going to enjoy this ride as long as possible. I'm going to soak up everything he has to give me and greedily take what's on offer.
I'm so tired of living from one fear of loss to another. I have to trust in his words and believe that he's being honest with me. If I want this to work, then I have to give myself to him fully and voice my concerns when they arise.
With him standing in front of me, chin curled into his chest as he watches my hands roam down his body, I know that I'm all he sees. I'm all that he wants, and that alone builds my confidence.
I open his belt, making quick work of the button on his jeans before lowering his zipper. I don't waste a breath before reaching inside his boxer briefs and wrapping my hand around his cock.
He hisses, and the sound gives me all the confidence I need to continue. We're not playing games. This isn't something he wants to do because he's bored or limited in his options. He has chosen me, and I'd be a fool to think I don't deserve it.
"Baby," he whispers, his hands lifting to the hem of my shirt.
In the next breath, it's over my head and on the floor, and he does that incredibly sexy man thing when he clasps the back of his t-shirt at the neck and pulls it over his head. There isn't a hint of hesitation in his movements when he steps forward and presses his warm body to mine, and in this moment I realize there has never been a waver in his movements where I'm concerned. It eases some of my doubts.
Our mouths and hands are a blur as we continue to undress and touch, fingertips skating over every inch of each other's bodies, leaving nothing untouched.
His mouth follows the path of his fingertips from my neck to my shoulder and then down to the tip of my breast.
When my legs start to tremble, he takes the opportunity to ease me to the floor right there in the middle of my living room.
I'm panting by the time he dips his fingers into the waistband of my leggings, gasping with need by the time he pulls them free from my body.
I don't feel self-conscious. I don't have time to worry if this position on the floor makes my body look better or worse than it would be if I were standing or sprawled out on a bed instead.
His eyes rake over every inch of me, desire growing in them with everything he sees. I feel valued, precious, and seductive with the attention he pays to me.
When he shoves his jeans down, not bothering with kicking off his boots, to get the denim clear of his legs, I feel wanton, and every inch of my body aches for him.
It doesn't feel like this is going to be a quick fuck, so he doesn't need to waste time taking his clothes all the way off. Instead, it feels like he wants me so badly that he can't spend another second on things that don't matter.