Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
“I am. I like being a wild card.” I ran a finger over her cheek. “I don’t care what they think of me, I care what you think of me. Do you feel the same draw I do?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Then don’t shut me out.”
“They’d never allow me to have you, and starting a relationship with you is unfair.”
I leaned forward, rubbing her thighs with my hands. “I’m not fucking asking for their permission.”
She started to speak, but I laid a finger on her lips. I wanted her to give us a chance.
“Don’t brush me aside because of them. If you don’t want this, that’s one thing, but not because of them or anyone else.”
I drew in a deep breath. “I’m not easy to take on. I’m moody, blunt, and demanding.”
“Really.” She held back a grin. “I hadn’t noticed.”
I chuckled. “I speak my mind, and I go after what I want. I travel a lot—I’m gone for weeks at a time at the drop of a hat. I live out of a suitcase most of the time.”
“You mentioned you travel a lot last night. Why?”
“I specialize in photographing natural disasters. I travel all around the world, often in very remote areas, and I can be out of touch for days, sometimes weeks. I do some freelance stuff, but I also work for Nature’s Edge magazine.”
Her eyes widened. “I’ve seen your work. A.M. Kincaid. I didn’t know that was you—I never put it together.”
I wasn’t surprised. I had suspected as much, and it didn’t matter to me.
“What does the M stand for?” she asked.
“Martin.”
“You’re so talented, Adam.” Then she frowned. “So, what you do, is it dangerous?”
“Sometimes,” I answered honestly. “But I’m careful, and a professional, and the people I work with are as well. But if you thought me being on a building ledge taking some pictures of boats on the water was dangerous—” I shook my head and gave her a pointed look “—that was tame compared to what I normally do on a shoot.”
“Have you been hurt before?”
I thought of the bluffs I’d fallen over, the precipices I’d dangled from, and the occasions I’d been knocked out by flying debris. “A few times, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“Is this something you’re going to do for the rest of your life?” she asked, concern woven into her words.
“No. I’ll move on to something else. No one can keep up this pace forever. I’m at the top of my game, and it’s not something I want to give up—yet. One day, I will.” I curled my hands around hers. “Is it something that would stop you from exploring this—whatever this is—with me?”
Her answer was a quiet hum in the air. “No.”
“Your parents don’t scare me. I don’t care about what they think, I care about what you think. Can you handle that? Can you handle me?”
“I want to find out.”
Relief swelled in my chest. “Why don’t we take it one step at a time? You already live two separate lives—let me be part of the one that makes you happy,” I said. “I’m not anxious to meet your parents, to be honest.”
“I’d like that.”
“So would I. I know it’s fast, but I feel a connection with you, and I want to explore it.” I ran my knuckles down her cheek, resting my hand on her neck, feeling her pulse pick up. “I want to explore you.”
Leaning forward, I brushed my mouth against hers—easy, gentle touches of our lips. She sighed into my mouth, her eyes fluttering shut as I slipped my hand around the back of her neck, burying my fingers in her hair, and deepened the kiss. She curled her hands on my shoulders, and I pulled her close, lifting her to my lap. I caressed her tongue with mine—long, sensuous strokes that teased and promised more. I relaxed, content right now just to hold her. She snuggled into my chest, her head fitting perfectly under my chin. I felt her yawn, her entire body shivering as she did so. I nuzzled the top of her head regretfully; I knew she had to be exhausted.
“Will you go somewhere with me tomorrow?” I asked.
“Yes,” she replied without hesitation.
I held her closer. “Good.”
“I should go, but I don’t want to,” she murmured.
I frowned. “Are you all right to drive?”
She tilted her head. “I’m fine, but if I stay much longer, I won’t be.”
“Just for a little while.”
She agreed easily, curling tighter to my chest. I enjoyed the simple pleasure of having her in my arms.
I felt it when she fell asleep, the way her body relaxed, her breathing evening out. I looked down at her, pleased at the trust she showed me. I frowned, thinking of her story and what she had lived through. The callous treatment from the two adults she called parents. They didn’t deserve that title. I planned on being the person who helped her break from the chains they had her in.