Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 631(@200wpm)___ 505(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 631(@200wpm)___ 505(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
But not once had she said no. Not fucking once. No matter how rough he’d been, how rough he could be.
Any other female seeing him touching and nuzzling another one would’ve stomped away in a fit.
Not Jet.
Hell no, she asked if he was bi, instead. He wanted to laugh at that but it wasn’t even funny.
When he opened his eyes again, he spotted her .38 in a leather holster on the nightstand. Sneaking up on a cop in the dark in her own bedroom when she wasn’t expecting him was dangerous. But having a gun nearby made it deadly.
He went over to the nightstand, snagged her revolver and placed it on the dresser on the other side of the room and out of her reach. Mostly to ensure she didn’t plug him with a bullet before he got a chance to plug her with his dick.
Keeping a hand on his belt buckle so it didn’t jingle and doing the same with the chain on his wallet, he shucked his jeans and boxer briefs, leaving them where he dropped them in the middle of her bedroom floor.
He switched on the small lamp by her bed, one that had a red filmy fabric square thrown over it and the muted light gave the room a soft glow. He glanced toward the bed to make sure it hadn’t woken her.
It hadn’t.
She had to be exhausted as fuck.
He carefully sat on the edge of her bed, thankful that her mattress was one that didn’t shift and jiggle, most likely made from some sort of memory foam. But she was so knocked out he could probably jump up and down on her bed like a trampoline and not wake her.
He started at the top of her head and touched every inch of her he could see. He didn’t touch her with his fingers—not yet, because he wanted to take his time before she awoke—but used his gaze instead. The silky flow of her loose hair. The curve of her shoulders and biceps, her fingers with the short nails and not a speck of color on them. The gentle arch of her spine, the hollow created where the small of her back met her ass. The firm, muscular globes of that ass.
He wanted to bite her there. Taste that firm flesh. Lick the crease that separated them. Explore her where she was very possibly untouched.
Where he’d be the first. Maybe even the only.
That thought pulled his balls tight. But he ignored the urge to take her right that second and continued his visual exploration down her very fit thighs, the tender skin behind her knees—one with a freckle he wanted to lick—her shapely calves, and ending at her feet.
With the way she laid, he couldn’t see her toenails but assumed they were as bare as her fingernails.
She was far from high-maintenance. He’d never seen her dressed any way but casual. Even so, her kind of casual was hot as fuck.
He couldn’t imagine her having the patience to sit her ass in a chair long enough for a manicure or pedicure. Her apartment was full of mismatched furniture because she wasn’t out to impress anyone. She only needed a comfortable couch to relax on and a good mattress to get some sleep.
Simple.
No games.
Not complex at all.
The biggest issue he had with her was the reason she carried that gun.
If it wasn’t for that…
She’d be fucking perfect.
Even with that hanging over his head, he couldn’t just stare at her, he needed to touch her. To feel the softness of her smooth skin under the rough pads of his fingers. To run his nose along the indentation of her spine. To follow it with his tongue.
Then his lips. Maybe even his teeth.
To mark her flesh, to make her his again, even if it was just for the time those marks remained. So every time she looked in the mirror, she was reminded of him.
With excruciatingly slowness, he moved over her onto his hands and knees and even more carefully slid her hair away from the back of her neck. And when he could see that delicate line, he pressed his mouth to the very top.
Not to sink his teeth in, no.
But he kissed her at her hairline and pressed his lips along every inch of her neck and down that steel spine of hers, shifting down the bed until his mouth was at the top of her underwear.
At mid-back she had jerked awake, but didn’t move even an inch until he finished. She didn’t need to to make him aware that she was no longer sleeping. Goosebumps had broken out along her flesh and told him what he needed to know.
She knew it was him. She accepted his presence even though she probably hated that he had no problem breaking in again. She probably hated the fact that he’d managed to climb on the bed with her without her waking up until he touched her.