Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 85399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
After dinner, he asked me back to his place with a twinkle in his eye. I accepted, with three condoms and an emergency toothbrush kit tucked away in my purse.
I rinse my mouth, my hand trembling, then pat my face dry with a towel.
“What’s the matter with you?” he asks cheekily.
I set the towel on the sink. “Nothing.”
“Are you nervous, Mrs. Reed?” he teases.
He saunters across the room with a confidence I only wish I could attain.
“Why would I be nervous?” I ask.
He wraps one arm around my waist and pulls me into his chest. The motion is quick yet smooth, and my heart flutters at the contact with his body.
His eyes hood. Darken. His lips are full, as if they’ve already been kissed. I wrap my arms around his neck, feeling the heat of his skin against mine, and let the scent of my husband comfort me. Relax me. Excite me.
“I need you to do something for me,” he says, his palm splayed against the small of my back.
“What’s that?”
“I want you to tell me exactly what you want—what you like.”
My face flushes. “Jack . . .”
“Lauren . . .” He grins, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. “I’m on a quest to deliver the best experience I can offer. But to do that, I need to know what that means to you.”
I giggle. “You sound like an infomercial. Are you trying to sell yourself to me?”
“Pretty sure that’s illegal.”
I feather the hair at the nape of his neck, grinning. “Is this a limited-time offer?”
“I’d say the warranty expires in forty, maybe fifty years. It depends on how long Maddie stays with Daniel.”
My laughter fills the small bathroom.
Jack sways us back and forth. “I mean it, Lo. I’ve operated too long, assuming I knew what you were thinking and what you wanted. You’re going to have to tell me now.”
I start to pop off a joke, sure he’s kidding. But as I begin to speak, something in his tone stops me.
He’s not kidding.
“What does the best experience mean to me?” I ask. “It’s pretty easy.”
“And . . .”
I grin. “It’s this.”
He places a kiss on my forehead, and I melt in his arms.
“I just want this,” I whisper. “I want you.” Pulling away, I look up and into his beautiful eyes. “Last night was one of the best nights I can remember. And it’s so . . . goofy, almost. Sitting in bed, eating ice cream, laughing about things that probably aren’t even really that funny.”
He smiles.
“You weren’t just my husband last night,” I say softly. “You weren’t my adversary. You weren’t the father of my children or the guy that’s on the bank account. You were my friend, Jack. That’s what I want more than anything.”
“I have some bad news, then.”
My brows tug together. “What?”
“Billie is about to lose her best friend’s job, because I’m taking over.”
I laugh, running a finger down his jaw. “She’ll probably fight you, you know.”
“I can take her.”
“You do have an advantage.”
He opens his mouth as I drag my fingertip across his bottom lip. “That’s good to hear. But may I ask what that is specifically?”
I grin. “I don’t want to have sex with Billie.”
Jack’s eyes darken even more.
“You see,” I say coyly, “I’m in a dry spell, and I really, really hope you’ll help me find my way out of it.”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
He wets his lips and then kisses me. It’s with a gentle, sweet reverence. He combs a hand through my hair, pushing my locks away from my face as if he needs to have complete access to me. Then, as his fingers reach the back of my head, he tilts my mouth upward.
The kiss deepens, his tongue parting my lips and exploring my mouth.
I moan against him. Gripping his shoulders, I pull him toward me—needing all the contact I can acquire to combat the growing ache between my legs.
He cups my cheeks, walking me backward until my back hits the sink. The glass containers holding cotton swabs and dental flossers rattle against the counter.
Our kisses grow more frenzied, Jack’s body heating against my hands as I roam my palms over his shoulders, down his arms, and onto his chest. The lines of his body, the cuts of his muscles, ripple in my hands. It is a form of foreplay all its own.
He skims his touch down my neck, then my shoulders, before sliding his fingers down my sides in a slow, intentional movement. He grips the top of my shorts and draws them down over my hips.
They unceremoniously hit the floor.
Jack grips the curve of my ass cheeks before pulling away. He drags in a lungful of air, his eyes wild. “Damn, Lo.”
I can barely fit my hands between us to undo the button on his shorts. He steps away long enough for me to force them to the floor.