Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
A soft growl sounds in his throat. “Even if it’s silly as fuck and never makes a cent, I have no patience for anyone who shits on what other people enjoy. Especially when those things aren’t hurting anyone else.”
“Oh, you need to talk to Lauryn. We are hurting people by selling our work. All art and intellectual property should be freely distributed to everyone, so even if I do create something pretty now and then, I shouldn’t feel entitled to be paid for it.”
He groans. “She’s one of those?”
I have to laugh, because the pain is real. “You get them, too, with your books?”
“All the time.”
“And told we’ll be replaced by artificial intelligence?”
“Even worse.” He reaches out, and my heart thunders as he brushes the side of his thumb down my cheek. “Are we truly still enemies?”
How can he keep blindsiding me like this? “We should be,” I answer breathlessly. “Tradition, and all that. I can’t befriend a Knowles man. After all these years, it’s almost…blasphemy. And you know I’m too goody goody to sin.”
His gaze slips down to my mouth. “Maybe we’ll find out tomorrow how goody goody you—”
He jerks back, sucking air through his teeth in a curse as Hot Biscuit Slim claws his way onto the bed, not caring that Reed’s bare skin is in his path.
Reed catches him. “Fucking Christ. I ought to throw you into a snowbank, you mangy rat!”
I’d take that a little more seriously if Reed wasn’t already sitting up, cradling the cat against his broad chest and rubbing his ears. Hot Biscuit Slim, of course, is purring. Loudly.
The traitor.
“He actually likes you, you know.” And it doesn’t make me jealous at all. “He never curls up on my lap like he does yours.”
“You can curl up on my lap anytime, too. Whether you like me or not.”
Leaning forward, he sets Hot Biscuit Slim down near our feet, then stretches out on his side again, but closer—and at exactly the same time I’m stifling a yawn against the back of my hand.
His dark gaze sweeps my face. “Did you sleep last night?”
I shake my head, already yawning again.
“Me neither. I spent all night thinking that I should have apologized for what I said to Harris. I should’ve just talked to you.”
“Not sure I would have answered you yesterday,” I admit drowsily. “I hated you too much.”
He huffs a short laugh.
I eye him. “What?”
“You always say what you mean. I like that about you. I like it a lot.”
“Even when what I’m saying isn’t so nice?”
“Maybe especially then. Because you’ve made me rethink some things, Abbie Walker.”
“What things?” I ask and have to cover my mouth again.
“I’ll tell you later, because that’s the fourth time you’ve yawned in as many minutes.”
“I am tired,” I confess. “Someone crashed his snowmobile really far away from the cabin so I had to hike miles and miles through the snow.”
“Uphill both ways?”
“Seemed like it.” Without forethought, I turn around and snuggle back against his chest. “Is this okay? You’re really warm and it feels nice.”
“Yeah,” he says quietly, his voice deeper than before. “Is this okay?”
His arm drapes over my side and he pulls me in tighter.
I sigh contentedly. “It is. Although if tonight is anything like the other night, we’ll both roll around. We might end up where we ought to be.”
“Where should we be?”
“Apart. Like enemies.”
“You don’t believe in keeping enemies close?”
“No. Though I do believe in using my enemies to protect my tits from Hot Biscuit Slim.”
A short laugh rumbles from him. Then he seems to slowly go still behind me. As if bracing himself. “Did you decide for tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“Yes.”
That stillness recedes. He drags me even closer, spooning his full length behind mine—and although I’m a teaspoon and he’s a big serving spoon, somehow it works. “So there’s no mistaking, I dying to get my mouth on you now. Not tomorrow. But I won’t take advantage when you’re exhausted, either. Not the first time.”
His words shiver over my skin…but I have to admit to some disappointment. Because I can feel him behind me, the bulge of his cock—but he’s not erect. Semi-hard, at best.
I wiggle my ass against him. “Honestly, I’m not getting interest from you. Certainly no dying.”
Wryly he replies, “Probably because I jerked off in the shower.”
Oh. Well, okay. That’s much better. “Did you?”
“Twice.”
“Twice?” Impressive. His shower lasted maybe fifteen minutes. “So you have decent recovery time.”
“Only because I have a very strong imagination, and I can’t stop thinking about getting inside you.”
My inner muscles clench. “I see. Is now a good time to confess that I masturbated while you were sleeping beside me the other night?”
“It’s always a good time to confess something like that.” He exhales a long breath, then seems to hold the next. “Were you thinking of me?”
“You might have been pounding me into the mattress at one point, with my ankles somewhere in the vicinity of my ears. And if I wasn’t so tired, I’d rub my clit again. Right now. I’d get my pussy all nice and wet, then make you watch me come.”