Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 52957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
The blonde’s mouth formed an O before she said in English with a slight Hispanic accent, “Oh my gosh, Caleb, what happened? She looks half frozen to death. Poor thing still has snow in her hair.”
I brushed it away, my shaking hands no doubt making a mess of my hair.
“Don’t know,” the male voice that must belong to Caleb said from over my ear. “I was cleaning up the melted snow by the front door when she came in. I thought she was dead for a second there with her skin being so pale. Her lips looked kind of purple.”
“They still look blue,” said the brunette sitting next to the blonde who also wore cat ears, but hers were black. “And her hands are almost purple. Miss, did someone do this to you? Did someone leave you outside on purpose?”
I shook my head, bits of melted snow dropping on my face from my hair. “No. I f-forgot m-my jacket. Then I got dist… distracted by the sky.”
The blonde frowned at me. “You got what?”
“Sky,” I repeated, sighing after a shiver subsided. “There is a full moon and it’s snowing. The sky was so beautiful that I didn’t realize how long I’d been out there. I’ve never seen anything like it.” A residual shiver moved through me and I rubbed my hands together as pins and needles sensations spread through my fingers. “I paused to admire the moon and I didn’t realize how quickly I’d get cold. I’m…” I managed to say through clenched teeth as I held my hands out to the fire again, “from Miami.”
The lovely brunette woman with the black cat ears repositioned herself on the couch to face us. “Oh yes, your tan totally screams Miami.”
There was a moment of silence before the women giggled and the guy behind me chuckled, his tone rich and deep.
The man finally came into my view and I found myself instantly drawn to his harsh features. He had high cheekbones and the kind of hollow-cheeked look that men with strong features sometimes get. Younger than me by maybe a few years, he stood a good five inches taller and wore a stylish tan suit that fit him well. Longish dark hair hung down over his forehead, partially obscuring his eyes, giving him a bit of a rebellious air despite the suit.
With a flick of his head he tossed his hair back from his face and returned my gaze. “Don’t mind Georgiana, she can be a bit blunt at times.”
“Hey,” the brunette woman who must be Georgiana protested while the blonde cat giggled. “I’m not that blunt. I am honest and I speak my mind. Something more people should be brave enough to do.”
Caleb ignored her and cupped my cheeks in his hands. His skin felt blazing hot, and I couldn’t help but sigh. Those long, elegant fingers of his stroked over my cheeks, then down my neck, warming everywhere they touched. When they brushed over my lips I looked up with surprise, not realizing my lids had lowered as the pleasure of his warm caress chased back the chill.
He smelled really nice, and there was a hint of roughness to his hands that made me tingle. My grandfather would have said Caleb had working man’s hands, something that didn’t go with the expensive suit and delicious cologne. He stroked his thumb over my cheek, and my breath hitched slightly as little pricks of electricity sparked beneath his potent touch.
I’d never felt anything like that before.
Maybe I did have frostbite.
Or maybe I was just really horny. I hadn’t had sex in a few months, I was in between partners and work had been insane. Jumping on the first man I saw was unlike me, so I gave myself a mental check and blew out a long breath.
My shivers had slowed and I could finally take a deep breath. “Thanks for warming me up, but I should be okay now.”
There was an almost reluctant look in his shimmering blue eyes as he let his hands drop from my face.
Oddly enough, I almost instantly missed his touch.
It had been rather comforting in a protective way that I found highly attractive.
There was an undercurrent of dominance to Caleb. I seemed somehow attuned to pick that up in men. Like an invisible magnetic pull that made me want to soften. To relax and let him take over. To finally have a few blissful minutes of not being in control of everything all the time. For me, trust was a heady drug that I couldn’t get enough of, and BDSM was the living embodiment of trust. I had to trust that my partner would respect my boundaries. I had to trust that my partner would look after my pleasure. And I had to trust my partner to own me, at least for a few brief moments, and allow me to completely let go of my control.