Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
“Are you sure? The couch is yours if you want it.” I shake my head and stand up, hanging on to the blanket to fold it. After Josephine’s bath time, which was longer than usual, an absolute must after we ate spaghetti for dinner—I think she even had red sauce in her ears—she watched television for a few minutes, enjoying her tunes as I picked up the kitchen, preparing a plate and putting it in the fridge for Jameson. The last thing I wanted was for him to come home hungry and have to deal with a dirty house. Especially since it was clean when he left this morning.
“I’m positive.” I place the now folded blanket on the ledge of the couch before moving toward him. “Let me grab my stuff, and then I’ll be on my way. Oh, I promised Josephine you’d kiss her good night no matter what time you came home.” I need to get my bag and shoes, then get to Shaun’s. As sweet as it was for Jameson to offer me, I’d probably toss and turn. The last thing I want to do is explain to Josephine why I spent the night. No, thank you.
“Alright,” Jameson responds. “I’ll walk you out and then come back inside to tuck her in.” I nod then walk to the front door in a handful of steps. I loop my bag over my shoulder and slide my feet into my shoes.
“Ready when you are.” There’s no telling him I can walk myself out. He wouldn’t listen to me anyway, plus he’d probably bring my brother into the conversation and how he’d be doing me a disservice.
Jameson’s hand goes to my lower back. I can feel the heat from the palm of his hand through two layers of clothing. It’s impossible to hold my composure when a simple touch makes my insides shiver. He opens the door for me, allowing me to step outside first. My body quakes with a different sensation. Jesus, it’s going to be a cold winter. Not as cold as Chicago, but still cold. I only hope there won’t be a lot of snow. Cold I can handle. Ice and snow, please don’t even think about it, Mother Nature.
“Shit, you’re cold. Hand me your keys. I’ll go start your car and get it warm.” Must be nice to be Jameson in this moment. He’s completely unfazed by the cold air or the fact that it’s mostly him who has my body trembling.
“It’s okay. My car doesn’t take long to warm up.” I pull my keys out of the outside pocket of my purse and continue our walk to the driveway. Jameson’s truck is parked on the other side of my car, and we make it there in record time.
When we reach my driver’s side door, he holds out his hand, and I drop my keys into it. I’m too tired to fight him. If this moves things along faster, well, I’m not going to fight it. I lean against the back passenger door, watching as he maneuvers his much bigger body into my car and starts the engine.
“All set.” He backs out, standing to his full height. We’re close. So close I can smell his scent. “A temptation, that’s what you are to me,” he mutters right before his mouth lands on mine. His hands engulf my hips, and his tongue sweeps along my upper lip before repeating the process on my plush bottom lip. A soft sigh escapes me. His tongue slides inside, invading more than my mouth. He's invading my every waking thought. My hands that have wanted to know what his hair feels like move up the slopes of his muscular arms. His heat sears me along the way. Finally, I reach his dark blond hair. It’s soft, softer than I expected, and his hold on me tightens when the tips of my fingers knead his scalp. Jameson’s body heat scorches me from the inside out. He groans into our kiss, deep, rich, throaty, and my legs threaten to give out. It’s a good thing he realizes how much I need him and tightens his hold. I feel the tips of his fingers work beneath the fabric of my flannel and cotton shirt. His skillful hands make quick work until they meet my heated skin. I moan, hands clutching him as tightly as possible, and when he slides his calloused fingers around the edge of my leggings, he groans, “Tell me no. Tell me to stop. Tell me you don’t want this.” He nips at my lower lip, expecting a response when my brain is short-circuiting. There’s no way I can reply as his hand slips beneath my leggings and he’s cupping my naked sex.
“Answer me, Kody, or this stops right fucking now.”
“Yes.” My breath hitches. His gaze is full of unrestrained desire. “Please,” I say louder than I probably should have. Jameson lives on a quiet street in a rural area, and I’m hopeful his neighbors didn’t just hear me beg for him to fuck me with his fingers.