Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
****
Max studied Erin as she sat in the middle of their bed spreading lotion down the silky length of her legs. He swelled at the erotic sight but tried to stay focused on the conversation and not on the ache in his groin. “So, the two of you get along okay?”
He hadn’t been thrilled that Erin and Nora had gone four-wheeling by themselves. It wasn’t safe as far as he was concerned, but they’d returned before he’d even been notified they’d left the compound—he’d already taken care of that oversight with his foreman.
And now he was doubly irritated when Erin wouldn’t look up as she paused before answering. “Yeah. She’s sweet. She has no ulterior motive that I can see—she just needs a friend.”
Ulterior motives? Was that a dig at him? She thought he was the one with ulterior motives? Well, what the fuck? Motivation was what propelled the world forward and it was high time that Erin realized that. He couldn’t be blamed for having motives and she needed to get over the fact that she’d been caught in the crossfire. It had happened, it was over. And they were married.
Yeah, they were married. With that thought blaring in his brain and his cock screaming at him to prove it, he moved toward her. Taking the tube of lotion from her fingers, he tossed it aside and came over her on all fours.
Her eyes shot up to his and he read her expressions as they appeared: surprise, panic, a hint of anger and then finally, as he felt a shiver run through her slender frame—capitulation.
He’d take capitulation—because it wouldn’t take him sixty fucking seconds to turn capitulation into all out participation.
****
Max rolled over and in a state between half-sleep and half-wakefulness, he reached out to drag Erin into his side—and found nothing but an empty space next to him. Coming fully awake, it took only seconds for his eyes to adjust to the dark.
There was no question—his wife was missing—again.
A ball of fucked-up emotion lodged in his gut, but before he woke the entire household in an uproar to find her, the first place he looked was in her closet.
Opening the door, half hoping he’d find her there and half hoping he wouldn’t, he let the glow from the bathroom light shine in.
She was there. Asleep on the goddamn chaise he’d allowed her to keep—but she was safe at least.
It irritated the hell out of him that she’d leave their bed and he was very fucking tempted to scoop her up and put her back in the bed with him. But he didn’t. He stopped himself, because for some reason, he realized that she must have felt she needed to be away from him. He hated that—but he’d respect it—at least this one night.
He attempted to calm himself as he stared down into a countenance that seemed troubled even in sleep. He tried to allow her presence to comfort him—he knew where she was, she was still in their suite. Safe.
But as he carefully shut the door and crawled back into his empty bed, he realized that although her presence was a measure of comfort—it was a cold, unrewarding comfort that left him aching for more.
****
The next night, Max made damn sure he gave Erin an orgasm—and then another—just to be sure. He held her tightly, drawing her into his chest and making damn sure that his hold was unbreakable.
She wasn’t going to slip from his arms again—that shit wasn’t happening.
But he finally had no choice and fell asleep; when he woke up at dawn the next morning, she was sound asleep in the closet again. Fury encompassed him—how dare she? What was her reason for leaving his bed two nights in a row? But as he studied her face in the pale light, he saw traces of tears. The sight more than upset him. Regardless of how they’d started, how unreasonable could it be to expect her to be happy here? Motherfucker. He was happy she was here—she should be the same.
He felt his muscles tighten as he continued to study her. By God, he’d win this damn war. He had no idea why he felt so strongly about the situation. He admitted to himself—he ached with the need for her to be happy. That’s just how it was.
He wanted her happy so damn bad it felt like a knot of ice in his guts. Yeah, he needed her to be happy and he wouldn’t settle for anything less.
****
That night, Max made love to Erin with a vengeance. Feeling a need he couldn’t understand, he held her staked to the bed, her hands grasped in one of his as he pushed apart her naked thighs. Thrusting inside her, feeling the heaven of her inner walls clasping him, the memory of the previous two nights made him hiss, “You’re staying in my bed tonight.” He took another stroke and slammed back inside with more force than he’d intended. “You’re not leaving again, you understand me?”