Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47241 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47241 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
“How often do you work out at the Y?” I panted between wild, hot kisses.
“A lot.”
I reached for the button of his pants. “You’re really fit.”
“Yes,” he panted back, removing my shirt. His hands immediately went to my breasts, cupping and massaging. “You feel so good.”
“So do you.” His muscles were hard, his skin was soft, and he smelled incredible. “What soap do you use?”
He began walking me back toward the bedroom. “You really want to discuss soap right now?”
“No. No.” I pulled down my pajama bottoms, stumbling out of them as we made our way to my bed. His hands were everywhere—my ass, neck and face. We miraculously got to the edge of my bed in one piece.
“I can’t get over how good you taste,” I said. “Like candy.”
“You too.”
“Mint toothpaste.”
He pushed me back on the bed and kicked off his boots. He slowly began unbuttoning his jeans and then slid them off.
Commando. Nice.
That was when I saw what he had going on down there. It was thick and long and rock hard. “That is a very big present.” I swallowed down the lump in my throat.
“Just wait until you see what it can do.”
“Hold that thought.” I rolled over and grabbed a condom from my dresser drawer. He snatched it from my hand and rolled it on in two seconds.
He grabbed the sides of my panties and slid them down, taking in the triangle of dark hair between my legs. “That looks delicious.”
“Some other time.” I grabbed his face and pulled his lips to mine while he settled between my thighs. His body felt so good, so hot. I was aching to have him inside me. “Please promise you’re not going to leave again.”
He instantly froze. “Meri.”
I opened my eyes, locking on his intense gaze. Then he rolled off me.
Oh God. I didn’t know why I’d said that out loud. It had been more of a wish than an ask. Wasn’t it?
He sat on the edge of the bed for a long moment and then grabbed his jeans, disappearing into the bathroom off the living room.
What just happened? I was wetter than a melting icicle and hotter than a steaming cup of cocoa with tiny marshmallows turning to liquid. I needed him. Genuinely needed him.
The realization slammed into me like a snowball to the face. I’d meant what I’d said just now. I didn’t want him to leave. I wanted to get to know him and unravel the mystery of why I felt so drawn to a man who lived a very unconventional life.
I really do like him. I pulled my covers over my body, hugging my white blanket.
I heard the bathroom door open, and then Beau appeared in my bedroom, pulling on his sweater. He sat down on the edge of the bed and began putting on his boots.
“So you’re leaving,” I said. “Again.”
“This was a mistake.”
“Why? Because I said I didn’t want you to go, like you’re doing right now?”
“I told you before that I was content with my life, and I meant it,” he replied.
“You mean the wandering from place to place without a home, all to pay penance for something that wasn’t actually your fault?”
“I don’t expect you to understand.” He stood up and stared down at me, a pained look in his blue eyes.
“You’re probably right.” I got up, dragging my blanket with me. I grabbed my red robe from my closet and slid it on. “But how could anyone possibly understand when your MO is to push everyone away?” I exhaled sharply. “You’re not a hobo or some free bird wandering the planet. You’re a chicken shit. That’s what you are. Bock, bock. Chicken.”
He tilted his head to one side. “Is that supposed to make me feel something?”
“Yeah. Embarrassed. And has it occurred to you that maybe what your dad was waiting for wasn’t for his son to live like a hermit crab using a tent as his shell, but to put down some roots and make a difference—to care about someone else more than you care about yourself?”
“I care.”
“Oh, do you?” I folded my arms over my chest.
“Tonight I just gave three thousand dollars to my friend who runs the homeless shelter downtown,” he said.
That was where he’d gone just now? “Where did you get three thousand dollars?”
“I was working on a crabbing boat the last few weeks,” he replied.
“What?”
“Crab. You know, those things with pinchers. People eat them. Working fishing boats is good money.”
I shook my head. While I was worrying my ass off, looking everywhere for him—every bus station, Y, soup kitchen, and park—he was somewhere on the ocean. “So you were fishing.”
“I needed a change of scenery to clear my head.” He paused for a long moment and then let out a breath. “I was trying to forget I met you.”