Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
They’re both bright and bubbly and special. And they both make me feel like I could bench-press the entire world if they needed me to.
I climb to my feet slowly, stopping only to give Summer a gentle kiss on the cheek on the way up. I’ve spent so long avoiding touching her that each precious touch and kiss I get now is priceless.
Norah follows suit, soundlessly grabbing Summer’s oxygen tank for me as I scoop her into my arms and carry her toward the house. We walk all the way instead of getting her chair, hoping she’ll be able to stay asleep until she reaches the comfort of her bed.
Her body feels unbearably light, and her skin is growing paler and paler by the day. With her curly blond hair, blue eyes, and white gown, she looks truly angelic. Like she already belongs in heaven with a halo over her head.
I fucking hate it.
Norah attaches the oxygen tank to the stand behind the bed, and I settle Summer into the soft center of her mattress, adjusting the tubes in her nose. She moans slightly but settles when I step back.
Norah’s soft hand rubs at my back comfortingly as we leave Summer’s room, shutting the door behind us and taking what now feels like a long walk out to the grass to collect all the blankets.
It’s only then that I notice the basket of food, untouched as of yet.
“Do you want to sit for a minute?” I ask, placing a gentle hand on Norah’s elbow to stop her frantic gathering. Her shoulders sink an inch and then two more as they fall away from her ears.
“Yeah. Let’s sit for a minute.”
Reaching out purposely, I give her a steady hand as she sinks down to the blanket, and I follow her down, sitting beside her and stretching my legs out in front of me.
I lean back to grab the picnic basket, and Norah’s eyes light up when I open it, revealing the pack of cupcakes I picked up from Earl’s when we were there a couple days ago. “Oh my God, yes, chocolate. I’m in desperate need of chocolate.”
“The way to your heart?” I laugh as I open the plastic packaging and hand her a cupcake with pink icing. I take a blue one for myself.
“It definitely helps,” she says on a snort and takes a huge bite of her cupcake, painting the tip of her nose with a smear of pink.
“You have a little something…” I’m smiling at her like a loon when she meets my eyes. “Just right here,” I say as I reach out to wipe it away with my thumb.
But her next move surprises the hell out of me. With her eyes still locked on mine, she grabs my hand and slowly, intentionally, licks the icing off my finger.
“Fuck, Norah,” I breathe at the wordlessly erotic sight. And I punctuate that statement by leaning forward to kiss her.
Her lips part under mine, and I sink my hands into her hair and my tongue into her mouth.
She moans, and I take her back down to the blanket, my body half on top of hers, our cupcakes long forgotten.
We’re both looking for comfort—that’s undeniable—but I can tell by the grip of her fingers on my neck and the pounding of her heart echoed in my own chest that it’s more than that too.
This isn’t a mindless romp between two desperate people. This is a connection that’s been at war with the two of us since the moment we met.
She digs her teeth into her bottom lip, and I have the urge to run my tongue along the seam of her mouth.
She moves her hands to my shoulders, and both of my hands are on her hips. I cover her body entirely with my own, and she opens her legs, winding them around my hips and clenching her ankles together until her heels dig into the top of my ass.
I growl and roll my hips toward hers, my hard cock aching to feel her wrapped around me.
It all feels so good, so right.
She whimpers, and my hands find the hem of her pink shirt, lifting it to get a feel of skin.
When I pull back slightly, searching her eyes for permission, a swirl of steam wafts between us. The warmth of our breath, the heat of our skin, and the cool of night mixing together to make clouds.
“Norah?” My hands shake with need as I slide my hands back into her hair. “I want you.” It’s simple and to the point, but for me—for the me I am now, after the guy I used to be—it’s not enough. “Norah, I want to be inside you.”
“I want that too,” she says firmly.
My grip on her hips is strong as I lift her toward me and slam my mouth down on hers. Her hands grab at my face and my neck and dive into my hair as our kiss turns wild, burning and building with each tangle of our tongues.