Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68390 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68390 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
I grasp her hips and roll her over in one smooth motion. She has no danger of being flattened or crushed by my weight, but I don’t think she’s worried about that because she grasps my hair and crushes our lips together. I take my time kissing her sweet mouth, and then I use my need for oxygen as an excuse to come out of the kiss and trail kisses down her jaw, her neck, and her chest. When I get to the cotton sports bra, I don’t stop. I kiss over the smooth black fabric until I reach her nipple. Then, I suckle it into my mouth. The cotton tastes like her. Fresh and sweet. Mountain air, a crisp stream in spring, the first snow in winter, the salt of the ocean, my favorite dessert, and those tacos we had for dinner. All good things.
“Sterling,” she moans. And then she goes for her pants, tackling the button frantically and trying to peel them off.
I kiss my way down her belly. In case you were wondering, my favorite dessert happens to be cherry pie, but I bet she tastes sweeter. I’m going to taste her. Sweet heavens and stuffed olives, I’m going to taste her.
We both tug at her jeans, getting them off. She spreads her sweet legs for me, her lovely, creamy skin glowing in the light of the lamp she turned on. I have no idea what kind of shadows we’re casting, and even though that’s all this is, it’s time this show is over.
When I flick the light to turn it off, Weland freezes. She thinks the show is over, and not in the way I’m thinking.
There’s no way I’m going to stop now, not when she wants me to keep going. Not when she reaches for me hesitantly, like I’m going to toss the covers over her, stuff pillows between us, kiss her forehead, and tell her that was a great performance for my creepy cousins who need proof about our marriage being legit. Thanks for playing along, sweetheart. Goodnight.
No. Just no.
“We can still just go to bed,” I tell her. I don’t want to push her. I would never do anything to hurt her. Correction: I’ve already done enough to hurt her and muck with her life.
But Weland is strong. She’s surprising and amazing. She steals my breath and amazes me in every possible way. “This isn’t for them,” she says as her hands twine through my hair. “It’s for us. We wanted to figure out if this would work before they ever showed up.”
“But they necessitated the marriage in the first place.”
“Sometimes we find that the things that curse us also bind us together and become a blessing.”
“That sounds like my new favorite song lyric,” I say to her.
Of all the things I’ve said, that makes her freeze. “What’s it like living in Nashville, in the heart of everything? Actually, no. What’s it like the second you hear something you know is going to change the world and everyone who ever hears it from that moment on? What’s it like being the one to put that out there into the world? Music that people live by and swear by, music that people play at their weddings and funerals and every other stage of their lives?”
I wish I had words for that. I don’t. But I can kiss her. With the wonder of kissing her, I can show her how it makes me feel. Honestly, I didn’t think anything in the world would ever approach that feeling, and then I met the woman I’ve technically been married to for the past four years. I finally met my wife, and kissing her makes me feel that way. Kissing my way back down her breasts, over her belly, and lower. That makes me feel the heart-speeding breathless wonder.
Her hands come down on mine when I kiss nearly to her panties. I think she’s going to stop me, but she helps me peel them off instead. “Teamwork makes the dream work,” she whispers.
I think it would be undignified to let out a bellow of laughter at this moment, so I do what she did earlier when she was trying not to laugh. I snort-laugh.
Except, when I realize Weland is completely naked from the waist down, I can’t make any noise. I settle myself between her legs and then position them over my shoulders. I think this is what gives my life meaning. Being here with a woman I could treasure if I let myself. She’d let me. I already know she would. If we were a fit, that is. Not just physically but in other ways. I’m not kidding myself that just because we’ve been able to make the past few days work, it means we could make the next however many years of a future together work, but small steps. I’m not saying they won’t work either. How would I know what it takes? I’ve never had someone there to rely on. I’ve never let myself trust, not even when it comes to family. I’ve never had someone in my corner other than Smitty and the people at the label who have my back, but I pay Smitty, and the other relationships are also working ones.