Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 76046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“I know you,” he promised. “I also know that I want to lay you down in that bed and make you forget your day.”
Which he did moments later.
Following me down once he placed me directly in the center, his mouth met mine, and I decided that sleep was overrated. Especially when you had a man like Wade in your bed willing to make you forget your bad day.
“Lift your hips,” he instructed.
I did, and he yanked the comforter out from underneath of us, tossing it somewhere in the vicinity of the floor.
Before I could gasp or protest the fact that the blanket was now touching the ground, Wade’s mouth came down on my neck. I hated when stuff fell on the floor. It seemed like it would be dirty to me after that happened, and I certainly didn’t have time to be washing a comforter tonight.
He started to press soft, wet kisses down my throat, tracing a path to the neckline of my shirt.
“Shirt off,” he urged.
He didn’t help me except to push himself up on his arms, lifting his weight off of me from the waist up.
It was then I felt the hard column of his cock press into my most delicate place, and I smiled.
“What’s the creepy smile for?” he teased.
I lifted my shirt up over my head, then stuck my tongue out at him before tossing the shirt into his face.
He caught it without hesitation and tossed it on the floor, likely near the comforter.
I snickered when he looked pointedly at the bra.
“You said shirt,” I told him. “I specifically heard shirt.”
He rolled his eyes and grunted at me. “Get it off.”
I took it off but didn’t throw it at him. Instead, I rolled slightly—as much as his body on mine would allow—and tossed the bra on the nightstand for me to put back on tomorrow.
I was still down to limited clothing choices, and if this hit the floor, I’d have to wash it. I was anal, so sue me.
Wade’s hand smoothed down the exposed expanse of my back and stopped at the curve of my ass to give it a little squeeze. “Pants, too.”
I rolled my eyes but went ahead and completely disrobed before flopping back onto the bed. “Better?”
His eyes went down the length of my body, stopping to linger at my breasts and the apex of my thighs. “Much.”
Then he dropped down and pressed his mouth to mine and totally destroyed my bad mood with one single kiss.
Thoroughly.
“God, your mouth is intoxicating,” he growled, dragging his bearded face down the length of my jaw. “All day I wanted to pull you in tight and keep everything and everyone away from you. But you wouldn’t have allowed me to do that, would you?”
Hell no.
He knew better than that.
I wasn’t the type of woman to be coddled, and it warmed my heart that he realized that.
He knew me better than I knew myself.
“No,” I breathed, feeling my stomach clench when he hit that spot just below my ear with the tip of his tongue. “I would’ve hated it.”
He growled against my skin. “It’s not a bad thing to allow someone to take care of you,” he teased, running his hand up the length of one thigh.
His callused hand felt rough and unforgiving against the smooth skin and I thanked my earlier judgment of shaving my legs with Wade’s razor as I moved to capture the mouth I loved so much.
“So fuckin’ smooth,” he whispered, echoing my earlier thoughts.
“I like your razor,” I told him. “You might need to go get me one exactly like it.”
He pulled back so he could see my face. “You shaved your legs with my razor?”
I nodded. “I also shaved my bikini line,” I felt it prudent to point out.
He snorted. “I thought we had that talk before when we were married. You are not, under any circumstance, allowed to use my razor on your pubic hair.”
I rolled my eyes. “I remember you saying earlier that you missed having all of my shit lying around. Even missed all the weird things that I used to do.”
He had said that, almost verbatim, while we were getting ready to go file my protection order.
He’d said he missed all my stray hairs that I left on the counter after brushing my hair and the way that I never managed to put the lid on the toothpaste or my deodorant. Then there was the fact that I hung my bras up in the shower, forcing him to move them almost daily before he took his morning shower after his workout.
“I also don’t remember mentioning that I liked shaving my neck and plucking your pubes out of my mouth.” He paused. “Any other time, like when I go down on you, is perfectly fine. But when I’m shaving? Yeah, I don’t like that.”