Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“I don’t need a peace offering.” I followed him onto the deck.
“You’re turning down my flan?” He paused to glance back over his shoulder, expression skeptical. He knew how much I loved that coffee and sea salt caramel flan that was now a permanent part of The Heist’s menu.
“Well, when you put it like that…” I trailed off because we both knew he had me. We made our way to the old dog run, where Magnus had made significant progress pulling weeds and clearing debris. I fetched work gloves and clippers and attacked the blackberry vines like the native Oregonian I was. And contrary to the weed’s name, the invasive vines lacked even a single berry.
After I finished my task, I put the hedge clippers away. However, upon my return, I almost tripped over Magnus, who was crouched along the chain-link fence. The man really did have the roundest, tightest ass in the world. Since he couldn’t see me, I took a long second to appreciate what Mother Nature gave him.
“What are you doing?” I asked after I’d looked my fill.
“Checking any and all possible weak points the Houdini hounds could exploit.”
“Oh.” That made so much sense that I bent to join him, checking for sharp edges and places where they might dig or test the old fence.
“I didn’t mean you needed to crawl around with me.” Magnus made a frustrated noise, and I looked in his direction only to find him far closer now. As in, right freaking there, face inches from mine.
“I want to.” I exhaled hard, finally allowing myself to look deep into his eyes, the thing I’d been avoiding for what felt like an eternity. He had wonderful eyes, rich with shades of brown, kind and expressive. I liked looking at him even as the memory of our couch cuddle rushed over me. When you’re ready, really ready, I can’t wait to kiss you. For the first time, wanting Magnus felt as simple as my next breath, which escaped on an uneven rush. “I really want to.”
“We still talking about fencing?” Magnus asked softly, holding my gaze. His eyes darkened with clear desire, but his voice was restrained. Yet again, the most confounding man I knew offered me an out.
“No.” And this time, I didn’t take the escape hatch. Refused to take it, in fact. Instead, I slid across the remaining few inches of dirt between us to put one grubby glove on his black Heist T-shirt and haul him in for the least skilled kiss of my adult life.
Funny how after wanting and denying myself this moment for months, I’d managed to lose all dexterity and any muscle memory as far as kissing was concerned. My nose went where? And my other hand dangled helplessly at my side as my brain shorted out. Somehow, I brought my lips to within kissing distance, bumping against Magnus’s with all the elegance of a barge hitting a dock.
And right as I was about to declare this attempt an unmitigated failure, Magnus took over. His hands knew where to go, pulling me securely against him before roaming over my back. And his mouth, lordy that mouth. The man could flirt and tease and charm, so I should have anticipated he could kiss like he’d invented the action himself. His smiles were dangerous, and his kiss was downright lethal, the way he started soft, so soft, taking my blunt pressure and replacing it with little hints of contact.
He sipped and teased until I gasped, lips parting, body finally remembering how this was supposed to work. And boy, did it ever work. Electricity followed his every caress, and all that energy gathered into something potent at the base of my spine, magnifying the sheer pleasure to be found in touching our tongues together.
“More.” I barely had a chance to groan out the word before Magnus was doing just that, morphing from the soft, barely-there kisses to more aggressive bites and licks, still teasing, always teasing, but more purposeful now that he knew he had me. I clung to him like it was the one thing my hands were good for. My gloves had long since fluttered to the ground and his meaty shoulders were the anchor I needed. He tasted sweetly seductive, like the most expensive tequila, and I wanted every last drop he had to offer.
When he drew back long enough to say, “Race you to inside the carriage house,” all I could do was nod.
Chapter Thirteen
Eric
Now what?
My brain raced even faster than my feet as I followed Magnus out of the dog run and around the corner through the blessedly unlocked door to the carriage house. The place was still very much in transition—gone was the old huge chair Sean had an unreasonable attachment to, along with the dining set and much of the other furniture. Random boxes, a stack of bedding, and bags from trips to the store were scattered along the floor like breadcrumbs leading to the narrow stairs to the loft. My inner clean freak—