Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
I mean, I already knew that, but with her standing there in a sexy black nighty that I didn’t even see her grab earlier, my heart simply stalls in my chest. My mouth goes dry. My dick comes to attention.
“I want to fuck you in that doorway.” My voice is pure gravel. The pulse in Annika’s throat jumps. “But I’m not going to. Not right now.”
“It’s on the schedule for later with the against-the-wall sex?” she asks, her voice breathless.
“Oh, yeah. It’s on the damn schedule. I want you with an ache that never really goes away, Annika.” I’m slowly stalking toward her as I talk. I’m afraid to reach out for her because I know I won’t stop once I touch her. “I tried for years to extinguish that desire. To tell myself that I’d never have you. That you couldn’t be mine.
“But there was always something inside me, a voice or an ache, that wouldn’t shut up. That wouldn’t give up. You kept telling me no, but I knew that I’d have you with me again someday. I didn’t know when or how, but I knew in the deepest part of me that you’d make your way back to me.”
I swallow hard and reach out to touch just the very edge of her earlobe.
She shivers.
“Everything about you is a miracle.” I step closer. “And I want you to not only hear that but also believe it. Because it’s true. You’re my miracle, Annika.”
“Rafe?”
I just look her in the eyes.
“I’m going to need you to touch me now.”
Chapter 11
~Annika~
Is someone hammering the wall next to me? Or is that just my heart, thundering in my chest?
The way Rafe’s looking at me would make any woman melt into a puddle. His eyes, so brilliantly blue, are on fire. Intently watching me as he slowly walks closer as if he’s a big cat, stalking his prey.
And let me just say, I’m more than happy to be the prey. I’ll gladly sign up for that mission.
I volunteer as tribute.
“My knees are shaky,” I say, surprised to hear the shake in my voice.
“Let’s help you out with that.”
He scoops me into his strong arms and carries me to the bed, where he lays me on the sheets covered in rose petals.
I didn’t expect Rafe to go all out like this. He didn’t even do this when I lost my virginity to him. But it’s so incredibly sweet, and so thoughtful.
So Rafe.
“I don’t know where you bought this thing,” he says as he pushes a finger under the black strap on my shoulder and runs it up and down. “But we’re only shopping there from now on.”
I grin and reach up to brush my fingers through his damp hair. “Like that, do you?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I like it. It’s going to look fucking awesome on my floor.”
I snort, all awkwardness gone between us. And when that finger glides down my chest and brushes over the tip of my breast, I sigh.
“You were hot at nineteen,” he murmurs and gets to work unfastening the little black number I wear. “I couldn’t keep my hands off of you. I could wait for you to be ready for a moment like this.”
“I made you wait for a long time.”
“It was worth it.” He swallows hard when he uncovers my breasts, then licks his lips. “A man should have to earn this, A. And I just have to say, if you were hot then, and you were, you’re beyond my wildest dreams now.”
“Rafe—”
“It’s true.” His eyes fly to mine and glow in the light from the bathroom. “Jesus. Your body matured into a gorgeous work of art.”
“Yeah, I’m not as skinny anymore. I have hips and boobs, and—”
“Curves,” he interrupts. “They’re called curves, baby. And if you say anything bad about them, I might have to take you over my knee.”
“Well, that would be horrible.” My dry, sarcastic comment makes him chuckle as he kisses his way down my torso. “You’re just so good with your mouth.”
“I’m glad you think so. Because it’s going to be all over you.”
“That sounds like a threat.”
“Promise.” He kisses the tender flesh just above my navel, hooks his fingers into the thin straps on the poor excuse for panties I’m wearing, and guides them down my legs before tossing them on the floor. “It’s a promise. I hope you don’t have plans tonight because this will take a while.”
“And here I was hoping to run out and catch a late show.” I grin, but then sigh when Rafe parts my legs and places a kiss on my inner thigh, about six inches below the promised land.
How often did I dream of exactly this? Long for it? Even after I moved to Denver and met the jerk that became my husband, I thought of Rafe. No matter how hard I tried to block him from my mind, it was no use.