Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
He lets out a long sigh. “There was a fight.”
I linger on the threshold of the bathroom, afraid to get closer. “You look bad.”
“I’ve been worse.”
“Are you shot?”
He shakes his head. “Stabbed. Well, cut.” He moves his hands and a long swath of his dress shirt is torn. Beneath it, an ugly wound trickles blood. “I need to bandage it.”
I blink rapidly at the wreck of his body and take another few steps forward until I’m on my knees in front of him. He frowns at me slightly like he’s not sure what I’m doing, but I gently unbutton his shirt and peel it back off him. He winces, grimacing against the pain, but we get it off together and let the bloody clothes fall into the tub. I prod at the cut, but it’s not too deep and not actively bleeding anymore, which is a good sign.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”
He grunts like he doesn’t know what I’m saying. “Why are you helping me?”
“Because you’re my husband.” I walk to the vanity and look in the cabinets until I find a first aid kit. “And because you’re hurt. Wouldn’t you do the same for me?”
“Of course I would.”
“Then don’t be so surprised.” I find some alcohol and pour it onto a large cotton swab and use that to clean the wound the best I can. He grimaces the whole time, but it doesn’t start bleeding again, which means he won’t need stitches at least. “We should get you in the shower.”
He nods and stands with some effort. Slowly, he unbuckles his belt, and starts to take off his pants.
I back away, blushing. “Maybe you can wait until I’m not here.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He strips them off and kicks them aside before taking off his boxer briefs. I shouldn’t be so embarrassed right now—Kellen looks like he got run over by a truck—but I can’t help it. I’ve never been a man strip naked before, much less a man like Kellen.
He’s cut. Muscular, intense. There are bruises blooming on his ribs. Muscles flex along his arms, his stomach, his chest. His skin is striped in scars and tattoos, and his thick cock hangs down between his legs. I stare at it and quickly look away, bright red as desire floods me.
I shouldn’t be feeling this right now, not when he’s half-dead, but I can’t help it.
But he grins at me for the first time. “Go ahead and stare. Or better yet, take off your clothes and join me.”
“I, uh—”
He chuckles and gets into the shower.
I turn my back as he begins to lather himself up with soap. I risk a glance in the mirror and watch the water run red off his skin as the blood rushes down into the drain. He sighs with pleasure and meets my eyes in the reflection as it begins to fog.
The shower door opens. I look over my shoulder, expecting him to have a towel around his waist or something, but instead he’s standing there dripping wet on the bath mat and still very much naked. The cut on his chest still isn’t bleeding, which means it’s shallow enough to stay clotted on his own, but then my eyes move down to his cock.
He’s half hard.
“Come here,” he says, throaty and low.
I can get out. The door’s right there. I could run away. I don’t have to stay here with this man, this gorgeous freaking god of a man, not when he’s dripping wet and aroused just looking at me in my shorts and t-shirt, my hair messy from lying in bed and trying to sleep. He’s too injured to catch me if I decided to run.
Instead, I turn to him.
He closes the distance between us, presses his wet body against me, and kisses me deep.
I melt into that kiss, groaning into him, moaning into his mouth as his hands hold my hips hard then pull my shirt up over my head. My worry and desire mix into a heady, intoxicating emotional overload, and I slide my tongue against his tongue as his strong hands hold my hips.
I’m not wearing a bra. I feel him stiffen more as he looks at my breasts and my hard, pink nipples. “I nearly died tonight,” he whispers as he kisses my neck. “And you know what I was thinking the whole time I was fighting for my life?”
“I can’t even guess,” I say as he licks my nipples and sucks them hard before biting my lip and pulling my hair.
“I kept thinking, I can’t go before I get another taste of Tara. I can’t die before I feel her quiver and hear her moan one more time.”
“Kellen—”
He buries my protest with a kiss and pulls down my shorts in one fluid, easy yank, leaving me in only my panties.