Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 49294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
“In the kitchen!” I’ve been in this house many times when her aunt lived here. Plus, her bungalow isn’t big. You can stand in the foyer and see the living room to the left, dining room to the right, and the open doorway leads to the kitchen. As much as I want to make a detour, more than ready to see where Lennon lays her head down at night, I don’t.
“Smells good even with the beeping noise carrying on,” I tell her as I walk to where she’s standing in front of the stove. She’s out of her scrubs and is wearing an oversized tee, one shoulder bared, and a pair of cotton shorts rolled at the waist. The shirt has some kind of tuck going on, showing off her waist.
“Yeah, it’s hard to sit still. I figured the least I could do to thank you is feed you dinner.” I set my tool bag on the floor, settle in beside her, and watch as she goes about cooking. There’s some kind of chicken being sautéed in one pot, noodles boiling in the other, and she’s chopping vegetables on the cutting board.
“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.” I say, she pauses to look up at me.
“And you didn’t have to pause your evening to help me out.” A soft smile plays on her lips.
“Fair enough. How about I go figure out what the deal is, and if I can’t, I’ve got a friend who knows a thing or two about a thing or two.” I’m not bragging that I’m part of that situation or that we own a company together. As far as Lennon knows, I’m a firefighter. We’ll figure out the rest as we get further along.
“I guess I should show you where it’s coming from,” she offers.
“Taking a guess it’s through that door,” I reply, bending down to pick up my tool bag. The noise is only getting worse with every minute I stand watching Lennon do her thing.
“I’m not going to tell you how long it took me to locate the source of the beeping. Clearly, I’m losing my hearing, but now that I’ve found it, I’m ready to grab a hammer and bang on it until it dies.” While there’s laughter in her voice, I can tell she’s dead serious. I make a mental note not to piss her off. Lennon Sinclair can handle herself, that’s for damn sure.
“The option might still be there. Time will tell.”
She reaches for me.
She fucking reaches for me.
“Thank you. I’m a little out of my element doing a lot of things on my own and, well, I really appreciate you helping me.” A hunger like no other slams inside of me when her slim fingers wrap around my wrist, holding them there and gently squeezing me. I’m fighting the soul-consuming need to slide her hand up my chest, bury my fingers in her hair, and finally get a taste of the woman who’s kept me up morning, noon, and night thinking about her. What I would do to her, what I will do to her, and after the news my friends delivered, I’ve got doubt lingering in the back of my mind about slowing things down.
“Day or night, you need me, I’m there, no matter what it is.” My hand cups her hip. I wait for her to pull away, but Lennon doesn’t move from me. In fact, judging by the way her hip cocks outward, giving me some of her weight, I’d say she’s doing the complete opposite. My thumb sweeps along her abdomen. I can feel the flesh pebble and see the deep inhale of her breath, and I watch as her body comes alive.
“Okay.” Her voice is barely above a whisper.
“Making it hard, gorgeous. Making it damn hard.” I lick my lips then pull my lower lip in with my teeth. Lennon’s eyes close, and when her head tilts upward, I can see her pulse beating rapidly.
“Making what hard?” she asks.
“Not taking your mouth, Lennon.” I squeeze her hip and drop my lips to her forehead, breathing in her sweet peach scent, then walk toward the room where the noise is coming from. I don’t wait for a response. She got a small sense of what I’m after, and as hard as it is, I’m going to leave the ball in her court for the time being.
The door is lightly cracked, yet it still takes a moment to get the door open with the way it’s swollen. Maybe I’ll come over and trim it down for her to help with opening and closing it. I can’t imagine she’ll want to keep the door cracked to air condition the outside world. The beeping gets louder. There’s no need to annoy both me and Lennon, so I shut the door behind me, put my tool bag on the closed washer lid, and head for the step stool.