Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 122097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
“What does that even mean, though? I mean, there’s no Grand Poobah controlling the world handing out badges with the word ‘Deserving’ written on a banner. You just got to accept what people offer, Collin. Whether or not they choose to offer it isn’t really any of your concern.”
I just stare at her for a few seconds. Because she’s right. It’s not up to me what other people think. Or what they offer me, even if it’s something I don’t feel I deserve, like trust. She should not trust me. But it’s not my place to tell her who to trust. And honestly, I know with one hundred percent certainty that she can trust me. Because if this really is a second chance then there is no way I will fuck it up again.
Without saying anything Lowyn hikes her dress up and slips into my lap, her legs straddling mine, her fingertips gently touching my cheek, and our eyes locked—the same way we used to do it in high school.
And automatically, and without a single thought or hesitation at all, my hands slip to her smooth, cool thighs and reach around her ass to tug her closer.
She sighs. And smiles. “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“For all those letters you didn’t want to string together to make all those words.”
“It’s enough then?”
“It’s enough.”
And then she leans down, slowly and deliberately, and kisses me.
I let this first part go slow. I let it torture me. Because this kiss is everything right now and I want to remember every single second of it. Her lips are soft and tender. And when she opens her mouth and slips her tongue right up against mine, I am crushed by all the seconds I’ve wasted in life without her by my side.
I see everything that I’ve missed in this one moment. All condensed, and squished up, and packed into a single fleck of time.
And then that moment passes and I can’t take it any longer. I reach up and grab her face and kiss her good. When we’ve had our fill of that we pull away, breathless. Then she’s scootin’ backwards. Getting away from me. I grab her hand, but she put her finger to her lips and says, “Shhhhh.”
So I let go.
And she stands up, smiling at me, something coy about it too. And then she hikes her Revival costume dress up her thighs and then the next thing I know, her panties are dropping to the floor. Then she puts her bare foot right up between my legs and starts rolling down her stocking.
I about die. “Woman, what the fuck are you trying to do to me?”
She just smiles—more coyness comes with it—and she does this same move with the other leg too. Then she grabs my tie and pulls on it until I get the hint and stand up.
I have to admit, I’m smiling as well. Not coyly. Not at all. Maybe a bit loftily. And then she’s sliding my suspenders down my arms. And before I even get a chance to catch up, she’s got her dainty little fingertips on the top button of my trousers. All five of the buttons down my fly come open.
I might die again.
And she knows this, because she laughs as she pushes me, making me fall back into the couch cushions. Then she steps up to me, looking down at me, smiling at me—and she sits herself back in my lap. Arranging her dress to flare over her thighs. Placing her hands on my shoulders.
“Do you want me to keep going, Collin Creed? So you can watch with your mouth open a little longer?”
I almost guffaw. Almost. Instead, I grab her hips, flip her sideways onto the couch—which makes her squeal like she’s a teenager again—and then I push that dress right out of my way with one hand, getting my hard-on out of my pants with the other, and even though she deserves more than just a little bit of foreplay time, that can come later.
Right now, I just want to be inside her.
And a moment later, there’s where I am.
I brace myself on my elbows, take her face in my hands, and I look her in the eyes as I love the fuck out of her for the second time ever. And this time, maybe the setting could be a little nicer, a bit more romantic, but either way, it’s everything I ever wanted from lovemaking.
Lowyn closes her eyes, opens her mouth to moan a little, and then her back is bucking up as I slip in and out of her and then before I even have a chance to calm her down, she’s coming. Writhing under me as Fleetwood Mac softly sings about lightning striking—maybe once, maybe twice.
And it is twice. In our case, at least.