Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
“I need a break,” I said.
“I can take it from here,” he said. “Thanks for your help.”
“Take a break with me,” I suggested.
He sighed, brushed his hands off on his jeans, and followed me into the living room.
“I have beer, or I’m going to make myself a screwdriver if you want one,” I said mischievously.
“Okay,” he said quickly, eager for anything that would ease the awkwardness of the moment.
I got two glass tumblers, grabbed the orange juice and the vodka from the refrigerator, and mixed the cocktails.
“This is much better than the Lucky Lady,” he said, accepting his glass.
I winked. “The Lucky Lady doesn’t make house calls.”
He laughed.
I took a sip, and the vodka hit me instantly, making me feel warm and uninhibited. “So why were you asking me all those questions about the hair salon the other day?” I asked.
His eyebrows lifted. “Just curious,” he said evasively. “Why did you decide to rent a cabin in the mountains?”
“Oh.” I leaned against the counter, looking up into his deep blue eyes. “I needed a new adventure.”
He toasted me with his tumbler. “That’s exactly what I was looking for when I came to Singer’s Ridge.”
I picked up my glass and wandered over to the couch. “I was born in Singer’s Ridge, grew up here, and I’m probably going to die here.”
He sat on the love seat, facing me but at a respectable distance. “You’ve never traveled?”
“Nope. I have an aunt in Seattle who’s always asking me to come visit, though.”
“Seattle.” He shook his head. “There’s a fancy city.”
“You ever been?” I asked.
“No.” He finished half of his drink in one gulp. “I’ve been to Texas, South Dakota, Virginia, Florida…”
“Florida,” I cut him off. “I’d love to go to Florida.”
“Or California,” he joined me in my daydreaming.
“Anywhere with a beach,” I agreed.
“I bet you’d look nice in a bikini.” His voice was soft but loaded. I glanced up into his eyes, shocked and more than a little pleased. I expected to find him teasing me, but what I saw was raw hunger.
I smiled, attempting to lighten the mood. “I don’t own a bikini.”
“Shame.” He finished the last of his cocktail.
I downed the rest of mine and collected both glasses on my way back to the kitchen. “Want another?”
“I’m not sure if that would be a good idea…” He hesitated.
I had already drunk enough for my danger monitor to be ineffective. I wasn’t sure why he didn’t want to drink any more, but I certainly wanted another glass. We weren’t driving, and we weren’t operating heavy machinery. What could a second drink hurt? I poured both of us another and pressed one into his hand before taking up my seat on the couch.
He took a measured sip and then moved to the opposite end of my couch. Now we were sitting together with only one cushion between us. I turned to face him, stretching my shoulders seductively. He was one hot cop, with his day-old stubble and messy hair. I couldn’t help smiling.
“So, what do you do for fun?” I asked.
“I like woodworking,” he said.
“Really?” I found that fascinating. My brain conjured up images of Jason at work in a shed, shirtless and driving a hand saw back and forth through a two-by-four. My heart nearly melted into a puddle right there on the couch.
“Yeah, I’d like to build a coffee table for the house sometime.” He finished half of his drink and set the glass down.
“Wow,” I replied, as if he had unlocked the keys to the universe itself. After he finished making this coffee table, maybe we could have sex on top of it. I pictured myself naked, stretched out on a lovingly handcrafted table, Jason standing over me with his cock in his hand.
We apparently both had the same thought at the same time. I set my drink down, and we met in the middle of the couch. I crushed my lips to his, opening my mouth to allow him entrance. He kissed me greedily, tasting like orange juice, vodka, and man. My hands didn’t know where to settle. I grasped his shoulders, the back of his head, his muscular back. He didn’t seem to be having the same problem. He put his hands against my ears and held my head still so that he could deepen the kiss.
I wondered if we would have to come up for air or if we could drown in a kiss. It had been so long since I’d had a boyfriend. The last person I was with was nothing like this. This was raw passion. There was a fire between us that burned in our bellies, the flame infecting everything it touched. I couldn’t get enough of him. I wanted to rip his clothes off and fit him inside me before another minute passed.
I climbed on top of him, spreading my legs across his lap. He groaned in approval, sitting back against the couch to allow me space to move. I bowed my head to continue the kiss, the kiss that had remained unbroken since it began. His hands dropped from the sides of my face and reappeared on my back. I felt the electric touch of his palms sliding down the curve of my hips to cup my ass.