Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 72669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
And he still hadn’t said a word.
Is it weird?
No, not really.
Booth was never talkative.
I swear I only got ‘I love you’ out of him all of five times in our entire two-year relationship.
But when I did get those words? It made it all the sweeter.
His mouth came down on mine then, and I lost control.
Clothes were gone, pants were shucked. Shoes were kicked across the room.
Booth’s hands were everywhere all at once, and I started frantically grinding myself against his taut, washboard abs.
He growled something so low I couldn’t make it out, then he dropped down to his knees, looping one leg around his shoulders before he buried his face into my pussy.
I’d never, not ever, felt something like this. Sometime so primal and full of need.
Partly because I’d been seeing Booth since I was sixteen.
And although I hadn’t seen him in two years, I still felt like I belonged to him.
I was his. Irrevocably.
And when my orgasm hit me, I was lost.
In him.
In our own little world.
The next few hours continued much the same way.
And when next I woke, he was gone.
Without a word.
And I was left with a hole in my heart.
He’d said he couldn’t stay. A few of the only words I’d gotten all night.
Granted, his mouth had been extremely busy, but I’d at least expected a goodbye.
I took in a deep breath, smelling the soft scent of his cologne on the bed surrounding me.
And I knew that we were done.
So done it wasn’t even funny.
I’d broken him.
He’d put on a good game face, but if he’d been whole, he would’ve stayed.
He wouldn’t have gone back to that place…that place that threatened to take him from me every second of every day he was there.
I pulled the shirt that he’d worn last night into my chest.
He’d taken back the other one I’d worn to class, I noticed, and left me with this one.
It smelled like him.
Closing my eyes, I cried.
Chapter 1
Who knew that tight jeans on a woman would make my jeans tighter?
-Booth’s observations
Booth
I was a dumbass.
I was going to get my heart broken again.
But I’d almost died—for the eighth time—and I needed to figure out my life.
I couldn’t keep going as fast and hard as I had been going.
My body physically couldn’t take it.
I was thirty years old, almost thirty-one, and I just didn’t heal like I used to.
What I was able to do when I was twenty was completely different than what I was able to do at thirty.
I’d been in the military now for ten long years, and I’d been avoiding this for too long.
Way too long.
A blonde giant of a man came into the room where I was standing and offered his hand to me.
“Luke Roberts,” he said.
“Michael Jones. My friends call me Booth,” I introduced myself.
“Your brother recommended you highly,” Luke shook my hand and let go.
The door to the room opened and an older man walked in.
“Sorry I’m late. My wife decided she needed me to fix a light before I could leave,” the man apologized.
I blinked.
“My name’s Allen Shepherd. I’m the Fire Chief for Kilgore,” he greeted me, offering his hand.
“Ummm,” I hummed.
I was confused.
“We figured we’d just go ahead and do this interview together,” Allen grinned. “Saves us both time.”
I nodded, not sure what to think about that.
“Okay.” What else was there to say?
My head hurt.
“So we’ve heard you just got out of the Marines,” Chief Allen started.
I nodded.
That hurt my head worse.
“Why’d you leave?” Luke asked.
I turned my eyes to him across the small table from me.
“Because I was tired of getting shot at,” I replied drolly, not holding back.
Luke’s mouth twitched.
“Honesty. I like that,” he said. “You’ve received two purple hearts. That’s pretty impressive.”
I laughed. It was impressive. Most people got them after they died.
“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” I shrugged. “I was shot once in the leg and once in the back. Both areas are healed and don’t affect me at all.”
Luke nodded.
“We’ll only need you on a rotating schedule,” Luke explained.
“I’ll need you full time. You’ll be on B-shift where your brother used to be,” Chief expounded.
My stomach knotted.
My ‘brother’ was actually my stepbrother. His mom married my dad when we were nineteen.
Aaron had been my best friend even before our parents had gotten together, and it’d been convenient as hell to call him my brother afterwards.
Because we’d always been brothers.
He’d had my back since we were in the fourth grade and Jonny Alps tried to pants me.
Aaron had beat the shit out of Johnny, and I’d shared my Little Debbie Zebra Cakes with him at lunch later that day.
The rest was history, and he’d been watching my back ever since.
I, on the other hand, hadn’t watched his back.
He’d nearly died in an automobile accident caused by his fucked up psycho cunt of an ex-wife. Although he’d lived, he had a long road to recovery ahead of him, as well as a divorce to deal with.