Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“Tate,” she pleads. Her grip tightens to the brink of pain. “More—I need more.”
Fuck, her neediness is my downfall. I release her, stand, and rip my shirt off. I’m out of my jeans and boxers so fast I almost fall backward. “Watch it,” I warn her as she giggles. Covering her with my body, I spread her thighs, and she wraps her legs around my waist. A scratching noise comes from outside, and I freeze. Every muscle in my body goes on alert. Jumping off, I reach under the couch and grab the gun I placed there earlier.
“What was that?”
“Get in the bedroom and lock the door. Stay down. If you can fit under the bed, do it.”
“Tate—”
“Fucking do it. Now, Mindy.” She glares at me for another second, then scrambles into the bedroom. When I hear the lock click, I’m out the door, my eyes taking a second to adjust to the complete darkness. Not caring that I’m naked, I cock my gun and hurry down the porch.
I hear a slight shuffle a few feet away and dart toward the side of the house. There’s movement at the end of the porch, and I react. Aiming, I don’t take a chance and fire.
When I return inside, I bang on the bedroom door, letting Mindy know it’s safe to come out. A few beats pass as she wrestles with the lock and opens the door. “What happened? Was he out there? I heard a gunshot.”
I grab her and pull her into my arms. She’s frantic. “Shhh…it’s okay. You’re safe now.”
She pulls back. “Really? Oh my God, how did he find us?”
“Well, for starters, you left a Slim Jim out there.”
Her eyes glaze over with confusion. “I don’t understand.”
I wipe her hair out of her face. Then I pick her up and toss her onto the bed. “Tate, wait—”
“Let’s just say the raccoon population has decreased by one.”
She looks at me, blinking. “There wasn’t a bad guy out there?”
“Just a hungry raccoon who wanted to see what the hype for Slim Jims is about.”
“You killed a raccoon?” she asks, sounding horrified.
“Would you rather I said a bad guy?”
“It’s just a helpless raccoon. They’re cute and wear little fur masks. What did that poor thing do besides wanting to love Slim Jims?”
This fucking girl.
“I didn’t kill it. May have nicked its tail, but that’s it. He got away.”
She looks relieved, and those wheels start spinning again. “Wait, two tours in the military, and you can’t get a shot on a little raccoon?”
Like I said, this fucking girl.
I prowl closer, climbing on the bed. I smack her legs open and fist my growing cock. “Don’t worry, babe. I know exactly where to aim this guy.” That shuts her up. Her dark gaze rakes over me, and I smirk, giving a husky growl. I settle my eager cock at her slick opening. With one thing on my mind, the primal need to be inside her, I roll my hips and plunge into her perfect, wet pussy, knowing that the way her eyes burn with lust is all for me.
Chapter seventeen
Mindy
I don’t know how I’ve gone this long without this kind of snuggling. I’ve snuggled my pillow. Myself. The toilet after a rough night. But never this kind of snuggle. With a sex god I get to wrap my arms around and bask in all his perfection. My head rests on his chest, one arm and leg wrapped over his thigh. Yeah, I’m spider monkey snuggling. And it’s fucking awesome. I plan on staying like this forever, making up for lost snuggling time. The problem is, I can’t stop thinking about what Tate shared with me at dinner last night. His stupid ex. How could someone be so selfish and be the cause of one person losing their life and then stealing another’s chance at one? He says he doesn’t think about her and has zero interest in finding her. But I do. How can you sacrifice your life for someone and not wonder what they did with theirs while you spent years behind bars before fighting for your country without care if you lived or died? How can you not at least want a goddamn apology or a simple thank you? A teeny-weeny opportunity to say, ‘fuck you, you ruined my life?’ That’s the difference between us. He can let it go. I cannot.
I try to focus on the beauty of the snuggle. The slow beating of Tate’s heart against my ear. His scent wrapped around me. His body under me, naked and ready. But I have this issue called nosiness, and I know I’m not going to let it go. Dammit, Parks. Snuggle time will have to take a quick break.
I slide off Tate and out of bed, trying not to wake him. Tiptoeing over to his bag. I scramble through it and find my phone, which I saw him throw in just before we left the hotel. Quietly, I walk into the living room and power it up. The second it turns on, it dings and lights up like the Fourth of July. “Shit, be quiet.” I jam the phone into the couch cushion until it stops beeping. When it finally does, I skim through the text messages.