Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 43920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 220(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 220(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
“You’ll come home with me, yes?” he asked, licking his lips, tasting me there.
“Yes,” I barely got out.
“Good,” he whispered, his shivering happiness so good to see. “I don’t know where to get pie anymore, so…” He offered me his hand. “I’ll follow your lead.”
I took a deep breath and then his hand. “You’re gonna wear me down with this, how slow you’re moving.”
“I don’t wanna wear you down, and I don’t want you to take me back just because it’s Christmas and you don’t want to be alone for the holidays. I want—”
“It’s not Christmas,” I grumbled, grabbing hold of his hand to get us moving, making sure it was tight in mine. “It’s you. It’s always been you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“And you’ll try? You’ll give me—us—a chance?”
I nodded.
“I need words here, Christopher,” he pressed me.
“Yes,” I promised. “We’ll try. Both of us.”
He lunged at me, and I was wrapped tightly in arms around my waist, his face pressed to the hollow of my throat. He exhaled, the longest sigh I ever heard. “Oh, Chris, honey, you’re not gonna regret this. I will make you very happy, I swear. No more tears over me ever. No, sir, just sunshine and blue skies and—oh no, wait.”
I smiled into his hair, wrapping him in my arms.
“I meant dark skies, and rain, and falling leaves, and smoke from fires, and lots of blankets, and cold, cold days.”
“Better,” I said, chuckling.
“And for the record, I don’t need to try, all right?” He leaned back to look at me, not pulling away, though, content to stay close to me. “I know what I want. Because you’re my home, and I used to think it, in my head, but now I know it in my heart.”
I smiled at him. “It sounds like a song.”
“It’s many. Actually all of them. My next record is your love letter.”
Suddenly, I could barely breathe.
“I hope you like ballads, because that’s all I seem to be able to write.”
“Sonny,” I began, but had no idea what to say.
The smile lit up his face. “I can’t wait for you to hear them.”
I couldn’t either.
“Maybe I’ll play you one at home.”
There was no missing him calling his place home. “I would love that.”
“Good,” he murmured, and lifted for a kiss.
Another kiss that spoke to want and need and craving, but also deeper feelings, steady ones, solid ones.
“I dreamed about this,” he said when he had to breathe, smiling against my mouth.
“So have I,” I admitted, and his answering crow of happiness made me smile.
And then he was back to holding me, and I realized I could never pull away, not from him. Not ever. But that was all right. It was perfect, really. I was ready to see what our future would bring. And if he held on to me for the rest of my life, that just might be long enough.