Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
The minute he reached me he opened his jacket and wrapped me in it, his heat wiping out the chill in my bones, his scent soothing my shattered nerves. I’d never been so happy to see someone. Walking forward, he carried me inside while I wrapped my arms around his waist and held on for dear life. I tipped up my face and he dropped kisses on the corner of my mouth, the sensitive skin on the side of my throat, my temple.
“How did you––”
He snatched the rest of the words from my lips with a kiss. And he didn’t stop. Not when he placed me back on my feet and kicked the door shut behind him. Not when he slipped his jacket off and draped it around my shoulders to warm me up. I hadn’t even noticed how violently I was shaking until he began to rub my back and whisper sweet reassurances in my ear.
“…I’m here…It’s okay…I’ve got you…I’ve got you, Sunshine…” His body heat clung to the jacket. His scent too. And safety, and comfort, and the rest of the good stuff. I had never felt more cared for in my entire life.
The tears started all over again. Stinging tears. So thick and viscous I could barely see through them. Scott’s face became a handsome blob.
Taking my hand, he dragged us over to the foot of the queen-sized bed, sank down on it, and placed me on his lap. His arms wrapped around my waist, mine around his neck. We sat in silence that way for a while, anchored to one another. Like he knew what I needed to gain back my composure.
“How’d you find me? I don’t mean to imply you’re a scary stalker, but you are exhibiting stalker-like tendencies.” I knew he was resourceful. This, however, was next level.
He snorted and nuzzled the side of my neck, planted a few quick kisses there before speaking. “My father knew where your grandparents lived. This is the only…” Frowning, he glanced around. “…hotel in town.”
“I’m impressed,” I told him in all honesty, my gaze drawn to that soft sensual mouth of his like a millennial to Twitter.
My favorite mouth in the world curled up. “Because I found you?”
“Because you came…” I tunneled my fingers in his hair and he sighed. “…and because it feels like I’m sitting on a speed bump.”
He grinned wide and bright. “That happens by rote whenever it’s near you…I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
He breathed deeply and his expression sobered as if he were preparing himself for something unpleasant. His arms tightened around me. “Tell me what happened.”
I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to think about Josh, or my grandparents, or the horrible memories this place evoked. My brain felt crowded and I needed to clear my browser history. I wanted to feel good and Scott knew how to do that better than anyone.
Wrapping my hands around his prickly face, I kissed him hard. “I don’t want to talk,” I whispered against his lips. “Not now…not yet. Just make me feel good. Can you do that?”
For a beat, he searched my face. Then he nodded. The jacket was gently pushed off my shoulders, sliding silently to the ground. Slowly, the ratty t-shirt I was wearing was lifted over my head and tossed to the carpeted floor. With supreme concentration, his calloused fingertips traced the lines of my collarbone so gently a shiver wracked my entire body. I couldn’t wait any longer.
While our mouths melded, he stripped me bare, laid me down on the crappy motel bed, and undressed himself slowly as I watched him with undisguised glee in my eyes. It was better than any Christmas present I’d ever unwrapped. Gray sweater? Boom, gone. Designer Italian boots? Atta here, kicked off. Jeans? Bye-bye.
“No underwear?”
His brow folded in worry. “I was in a hurry to get to you.”
“Have I ever told you that you’re perfect?”
“No. But you have called me a royal pain in the ass.” He smiled broadly.
“Same thing. Come here.” I opened my arms to him. Because he was. With all his faults, Scott Blackstone––sensualist, reformed playboy and dilettante, lover of a good time, environmentalist, and newly minted king of the cattle business––was perfect for me.
He stood naked and proud. And proudly showing off each delineated line of muscle meeting muscle. His erection jutted out from the rest of him, leading the charge. An instrument of God. A work of art created to give pleasure and take pleasure.
I thought about what my grandparents would say to that and chuckled. Maybe I was just like my mother after all, a creature of passion and pleasure, a sinner…a hopeless romantic. My grandparents had done everything in their power to beat it out of me and it hadn’t worked. It had gone into witness protection, hiding, waiting for Scott to come along and draw it out in the open.