Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
He’s never once been that proud of me.
Hurt burns behind my eyes, and I blink a few times to keep the tears at bay. No way in hell am I going to cry in front of these people. To mask my fragile emotional state, I take a long sip of the bubbly.
It’s as bitter as I feel, and the fizz nearly chokes me.
Just like my father’s speech did.
A hand lands on my thigh, and when I tilt my head toward Ashton, I find him studying me with those keen blue eyes of his. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. His support is there in the warm weight of his palm, the pinch of his lips, the tiny furrow in his brows. His gaze darts to my father for a second, and I swear, if looks could kill, my father would be on the floor right now, bleeding out from Ashton’s sharp anger.
I cover his hand with my own, silently thanking him for being here for me. But the air shifts between us, and he inches his hand up my thigh, making my body tingle with heat. My fingers tighten around his, trapped in indecision.
Part of me wants to push him away. The other part wants to urge his touch higher. My legs part by an inch, my body making the decision for me. I don’t resist when he drags the hem of my dress up.
Our gazes crash together in a fatal collision of longing. I’m lost, tumbling around and around in the ether regions of this endless loop of a moment.
Ashton draws his bottom lip between his teeth as he slips his hand between my thighs, the warm pads of his fingers stroking me. There’s promise in that touch, threat in the heat of his eyes, power in his mere presence.
The unforgiving line of his jaw is a reminder of passion and punishment to come.
Jake’s scowl catches my eye from across the table, and suddenly, I know I’d take Ash’s punishment any day over the charade playing out in this dining room. I’ll bare my ass for Ashton as long as he wants if this damn dinner will just end already.
Chapter Eighteen
Ashton
If Sadie’s asshole ex glares at me one more time, we’re going to have issues.
Reserved conversation filters through the room, along with clinking silver on china. I fork in a bite of duck or lamb or whatever this shit is while I stroke Sadie out of her ever-loving mind.
Jake knows exactly what’s going on under the table which is why he keeps giving me his eat-shit glare. It’s not the barely contained rage on his face that bothers me. It’s the possessiveness. The air surrounding him that says he’s better than I am.
That expression tells me he thinks Sadie belongs to him.
I’ve got news for the bastard. Sadie is a goddamn person and doesn’t belong to anyone, but if someone is staking a claim here, it’s me.
Right now, my fingers are staking a damn memorable claim. I dip one into her wet center, making her grip the edge of the table. An audible gasp puffs off her lips, and I love the way her cheeks deepen in that sexy flush I can’t get enough of.
Her knuckles are white, her body stiff with resistance, but her thighs…fuck, she’s parting them for me by a couple more inches. I take advantage and finally slide all the way home into her drenched core. Hot damn, she’s tight. Pure. I’m desperate to be the first man to push between her legs and steal her innocence.
And I’ll treasure it forever.
“You should eat,” I say, nodding toward her full plate. “You’re gonna be busy later.”
She lifts her gaze to mine, and I can’t stop the tiny smile from taking hold of my mouth. Her eyes widen as the innuendo behind my words springs to the surface. Across the table, Jake sets his glass of water down with a heavy hand. I don’t bother glancing his way; I already know he’s glaring again.
“So, Sadie,” the wife of some schmuck sitting next to Jake says, “do the two of you have a date in mind for the wedding?” The woman’s words ice my veins, and I withdraw my fingers from Sadie’s most intimate spot.
What a way to kill the mood.
Sadie stiffens beside me, and I catch the panicked look she darts in her father’s direction, as if he can help her. Her trust in that man is misplaced; Joe Sawyer will probably drag her down the aisle, kicking and screaming, if she doesn’t put a stop to this bullshit now.
Jake clears his throat. “We’re still discussing the particulars, Mrs. Ferris.” He settles his possessive gaze on Sadie. “Though I must confess to hoping for a Christmas wedding.”
“That is a fantastic idea, JJ,” Joe speaks up from the head of the table.