Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
If I had my way, I’d keep her here like this forever, naked and all mine.
Her body feels just as perfect as I imagined.
Better, even.
Her breasts are small and pert with pink nipples like ripe cherries, made to tease a man, and her skin feels impossibly soft.
“Careful, I have morning breath,” she protests.
I kiss her anyway.
Fuck morning breath—I need her again.
It’s insatiable, this hunger she’s stirred awake.
Before Winnie, sex was mechanical, an urge like an itch I’d scratch once in a blue moon.
Sure, I wanted it.
A man has needs, and I found women to fulfill them. Always at their place, and rarely twice in a row. They’d go back to being nameless memories the very next day.
Plus, with work being what it is and Colt getting older, even quick and dirty hookups have gotten less frequent.
I started to think that was just part of aging, the carnal desires taking a back seat to life, probably for the better.
But no, not anymore.
Not when I want to devour this woman, to savor every part of her. From what I discovered last night, she tastes like licorice and honey.
It’s already fucking constant, this addiction to Winnie Emberly, the way my hands still ache to touch her even when she’s right in front of me.
It’s hot need, pure and simple.
I pinch her nipple as she moans, low and demanding.
Another thing I love—she knows what she wants in bed, and it’s sexy as hell.
She doesn’t wait for me to initiate, either. She goes for what she wants.
Her long legs wrap around mine and she grinds against me again, teasing me.
Growling, I push my fingers against the nub of flesh between her legs, already soaked, and press.
She gasps.
She’s so wet for me I instantly lose my mind.
Always so ready.
Fuck, I could slip inside her right now and I’d fit like heaven because she wants it that bad.
“Archer,” she whispers.
This shit is unhealthy.
It’s honestly sick how much I love it when she moans my name like a prayer. I’m addicted, and I slip my fingers inside her, catching her moan in my mouth, when I hear footsteps.
Not coming to the room, no, but plodding around downstairs.
Loud voices, young and adolescent, just on the cusp of puberty rattling them to lower octaves. Colt’s voice is slowly getting deeper, but Evans has that rasping, nasal quality of a voice always about to break.
Shit.
I remove my hand from her at the same time she rolls away, her eyes wide.
“Colt,” she mouths.
Double shit.
What now?
He shouldn’t know we slept together.
With my other hookups, I was careful to a fault, never letting any of my flings intersect with his life. He doesn’t know I see women, and that’s how it should stay.
Especially because this thing with Winnie is—
Shit, I don’t know what this thing with her is.
All I know is I want her more than my morning coffee, which is sacrosanct. The day doesn’t start before coffee strong enough to strip paint pries my eyes open.
Raking a hand through my hair, I ponder what to do.
“I’ll go downstairs and start breakfast,” I tell her. “Wait a little to make sure the coast is clear.”
Her hand is cupped over her mouth, but although her eyes are wide, they’re filled with laughter. A breathy giggle escapes.
She’s still naked, the little minx, showing off this tiny roll around the base of her stomach when she sits up.
I love that too.
Winnie isn’t bird thin. She has real curves. Her physique reflects the carefree spirit behind those big green eyes.
Goddamn.
I don’t know what I did to have a woman like this fall into my bed, but I’ll pray to any deity who can keep her here.
But first, Colton.
I jump up and throw on a pair of jeans and a white tee, hoping to hide the hard-on from Hades that refuses to behave.
When I head down, the boys are on the sofa, laughing at some dumb streamer on TV screaming like a girl while he games.
I heave a sigh of relief.
Okay, disaster averted.
No, I didn’t get to see Winnie ride me this morning, but I saw plenty last night. In the moonlight, she looks like a goddess coming for my soul, and I was set to hand it over.
I snort at the thought.
A fucking goddess?
Who am I? Where is Archer Rory?
While Evans and Colt laugh themselves red over the streamer’s antics, I get started on breakfast, beating the pancake batter together and frying up some bacon on the side. I’ve just about regained my composure when the doorbell chimes.
Weird. Someone at the gate at ten a.m. on a Saturday? I pull out my phone, check the camera, and my heart stops.
Of course, it’s Rina.
It had to be her.
Shit!
What did Colt say again?
Something about his mother wanting to take them to the park?
Naturally, I forgot like the sex-crazed lump I am today. I was so taken up with Winnie that I never gave Rina the time of day.