Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
And it was.
I lightly brushed some hair from her face, gently tracing the crease between her brows with my thumb, trying to smooth it. Take away her worries. Take away the past.
As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t do that.
I wanted to hunt down her piece of shit ex and kill him with my bare hands. The need to do that was overwhelming. I told myself I’d left that violent part of me on another continent, I’d retired that part of me, stowed it away with the medals I didn’t feel like I deserved.
But the killer in me was alive and well, and he wanted to avenge any and all damage done to my woman.
My hand stuttered at the thought. I kept a lock of auburn hair between my fingertips, rubbing at the silky strand.
My woman.
Yeah, I’d considered her that for a while.
Her story fucking tore at me. I’d figured that the reason for her coming home when she quite obviously hated it here wasn’t a good one, but … fuck.
My fist clenched around her hair, and she jostled slightly.
I forced my body to relax, not wanting her to wake up and spit fire at me. Not yet, at least. I understood that for her, the battle was far from done.
She’d submitted to me last night, but she’d done it angrily, with all of her fire. And fuck, her ordering me to my knees.
My cock stood at attention at just the thought.
I stroked Willow’s bare back, the skin silky alabaster like the snow outside.
The death of her father had ruined her. I saw that in her eyes when she spoke about him, like he’d died yesterday instead of two years ago. Guilt for not coming back here drowned her in a weight that she didn’t deserve to carry.
I hated that for her. The pain. But I loved that she had a father she loved enough to grieve so completely.
She was so much more complicated than I’d first thought. And pulling her over that day, I’d known she was complicated, from her first scowl. I’d wanted to figure her out. Wanted her to be mine. Wanted her to want to be mine for more than just one night.
On that thought, my hand crept down her back to her glorious ass, cupping it, kneading it then flipping her onto her back.
Her eyes opened suddenly, no sleepy laziness for Willow. Her cheeks flushed as awareness settled over her, then her body tensed.
Before she could open her mouth, convince herself that she still hated me, my hand went between her legs where her pussy was already wet.
Her body relaxed, giving into me instantly.
I laid my lips on hers, claiming her mouth.
She kissed me back without hesitation.
“I’m not done with you yet,” I murmured against her lips, my fingers entering her velvet warmth.
She let out a mew of pleasure, and my cock throbbed.
Yeah, I’d never be done with Willow Watson.
Chapter Thirteen
WILLOW
I had sex with Brody Adams last night.
Fuck.
I had sex with Brody Adams.
Was I high?
First off, he was a cop, so even though marijuana was legal, I didn’t think he was the kind of guy to partake, so no.
Was I drunk?
Two glasses of wine made me tipsy at most, and they were counteracted by a belly full of Brody’s cooking, so no.
Was I mentally unhinged?
Considering the events of the past month or so … maybe.
That was the only way to explain having sex with him last night.
And this morning?
I was as well rested as I’d been in my life and no longer emotionally reeling from the fight with my family. Nor was I vaguely traumatized from my minor car accident. Yet I’d slept with him. Again.
Had the best sex of my life.
And instead of scampering away once the sex in question was over with, I’d done the unthinkable… I’d obeyed his soft command of, “Go back to sleep,” then let him kiss me on the forehead before snuggling into soft sheets that smelled of him and going back to sleep.
Now it was after ten in the morning, and I was in Brody Adams’s bed. In his cabin in the woods. With his adorable dog lying on top of my feet.
“Shit,” I whispered. I wanted to pull the covers up over my head and try my best to teleport back to my twin bed at my mom’s house. But my bladder had other ideas. And I really needed a better game plan.
So I got out of bed. Told myself I didn’t have a choice but to snatch the flannel off the back of the armchair in the corner of the room to cover my naked body. It was winter, for goodness sakes. Never mind that the house itself was cozy-warm. I inhaled Brody’s scent from the shirt, as if I didn’t smell him all over me. Feel him all over me.