Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 89012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
For as long as we can, we’ll give each other everything.
SEVENTEEN
Ashley
How long did I sleep?
I stretch, squinting at the light pouring in from the still-open door. It can’t be too early from the looks of it.
Sitting up, I look and listen for Maddox. The blankets beside me are a mess and one of his pillows is on the floor. Something about that makes me smile. It’s another thing that I’ve discovered about Maddox. And I love discovering all the new facts.
I get up and make quick work of brushing my teeth. My hair is proof that I slept like a rock after riding his cock. I could get used to that.
Smoothing it into a better bun, I begin to put on clothes but change my mind. I like being in his shirt.
I pull the fabric to my nose as I make my way downstairs. His cologne is faintly buried in the shirt, and I wonder if I can somehow slip it into my suitcase before we leave. Between the scent of him and his picture, it would help bridge the gap from honeymoon to reality that I know is coming.
“Hey.” He’s on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table, with a book in his hand. “Hungry?”
I lift a brow. His abs hint at the six-pack that would be visible if he flexed. His legs are solid as hell and he’s barefoot—kill me now.
“You’re going to need to specify,” I tease.
His eyes darken. He closes the book and stands. “For food. A woman cannot live on dick and pepperoni.”
“I’d give it a try.” If it’s yours.
He smacks my ass and then plants a rough, noisy kiss on my lips. “Come on. Let’s get some food in you before I’m in you.”
How my body can still crave this man, still burn for him after having him three times in the last twelve hours, I don’t know. But it does.
Maddox holds my hand and leads me into the kitchen. I admire the lines of his back and the broadness of his shoulders as we walk.
“I had James bring us some breakfast,” he says as we enter the room. “I feel like a total fuck doing that though.”
“Doing what?”
“Calling him and saying—Hey, can you bring us some fruit and bacon?—like I’m some kind of a dick.”
I grin. “It’s his job. He gets paid to do it.”
“Doesn’t mean I like it. And if you weren’t upstairs asleep, we would’ve just gone out and gotten it ourselves.” He turns and wraps his arms around me, cupping my ass in his hands. “Maybe. If you were awake, I might’ve been preoccupied.”
I raise on my tiptoes and kiss him. He wastes no time returning the gesture.
So this is what it feels like to have someone want you. Wow.
He pulls away and lifts me up, setting me on the counter. Then he takes a lid off a tray beside me. He grabs a fork and spears a piece of pineapple.
“What do you want to do today?” he asks.
“I don’t know. Want a beach day?”
He offers me the fruit. I open my mouth and wrap my lips around the sweet chunk. Maddox’s eyes widen as I pull it off slowly.
“Behave,” he says, tapping my nose gently with the fork.
I grin.
“There is a chance of storms today,” he says, selecting a strawberry from the plate. “I was thinking maybe you would want to go to the shops we saw on the way here with Otis.”
“You’re going to willingly go shopping with me?”
“It’s your honeymoon.”
I grin, opening wide for the berry. He plays along, inserting his finger inside my mouth much farther than necessary to deposit a piece of fruit. I suck his finger as he removes it.
“What am I going to do with you?” He shakes his head, amused. “So shopping or not?”
“Shopping.”
He feeds me another strawberry. “We have bacon too. Want a sandwich?”
“I want coffee.”
He scoots the fruit try toward me and then moves across the room. “Did you know a flock of flamingos is called a flamboyance?” He chuckles.
“What is it with you and your flamingo facts?”
“I keep getting these random texts with them. It’s a different number every time, and they don’t reply when I ask who it is.”
I reach for the plate of bacon and steal a piece. “Mad ex-girlfriend?”
“Moss gets them too, but his are about penguins.”
“Same numbers?” I bite the end of a slice of bacon. “Because what are the odds unless you guys signed up for some zoological text thing.”
He looks at me over his shoulder. “Yeah. That sounds like us.”
I giggle. “Then you know what I think.”
“Nope.” The buzzer on the Keurig goes off. “Cream? Sugar?”
“Cream, please.” I smile, in disbelief that he’s waiting on me like this. “It has to be Banks.”
He adds the creamer from the fridge and then replaces it. As he heads toward me, he’s shaking his head. “Yeah. It does. Why didn’t I think of that?”