Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 119184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“What about you?” I ask. “Since we’re trading regrets, it’s your turn. Don’t tell me you’re still single thanks to one bad prick?”
She hesitates, taking a long drink from her beer before setting it down. “I haven’t dated for a while, really. Not seriously. Too busy with work, and I like it that way. It’s just easier.”
I wait, letting my silence press her for more.
“There was a guy, a few years ago.” The words are quieter now, spoken to her hands instead of me. “We were . . . serious, I guess. At least, I thought he was. Then he wasn’t.”
She doesn’t say who, but she doesn’t need to.
She’s a god-awful liar.
It doesn’t take much to know it’s her ex, the heart-wrecking asshole who’s coming for her clinic.
Damn, what did he do to her?
My blood boils as I reach for her hand and squeeze it too hard, looking at her intently.
“Don’t talk about it if you don’t want to. You don’t owe me everything.”
“Thanks.”
It must be the light painting her like an angel that’s crossing my wires.
“Just know there’s always another chance. I don’t know how he hurt you, but there’s no reason that has to be the end of the line. Even if this isn’t real, you and I, it’s a reset. For my reputation and yours.”
“My reputation?” She blinks. “I don’t have one. Not like you.”
“The one in your head, Sass. You start letting ugly mistakes define you, you can’t learn to forgive, that’s when you’re sunk.” I smile, stroking her fingers. They’re strong from her work yet still so delicate. “You can buy Pawsome Hearts now. Take the wheel, do all the things you’ve ever dreamed of. Best of all, you can take it and spit in that fucker’s eye.”
She laughs roughly, like she’s barely holding herself together.
“Brady, I—” Her throat bobs, and fuck, it’s so easy to lean in, tugging her closer, tangling up her warmth with mine.
She doesn’t resist.
It’s even easier to tilt her face up.
This woman is a broken dove. Proud, strong, determined as hell, but unable to heal and take flight.
Tears cling to her lashes, mirroring the tiny freckles dotting her cheeks like constellations.
This time, I’m not sure who moves first.
Maybe both of us at the same time.
I just know we collide like a volcanic blast, falling to a hunger that’s mindless. Needy. Rampant.
This isn’t like the staged kiss for the cameras at all.
Then, I lost myself in her for a few heady seconds, but I was constantly aware of the camera, my fans.
I was focused on making it look like this wasn’t new for either of us.
Now, I don’t care how it looks.
The urge consumes me, and there’s no one watching.
Just us.
Just Lena.
She’s so impossibly warm it hurts not to kiss her.
Her hand curls around the back of my neck for support, and I trace her curves with one palm.
A small sigh escapes her mouth, passing from her lips to mine. Over her clothes, I find her breasts. Even through her bra, I can feel the hard nub of her nipple, aching to be sucked.
Moaning, she arches into my hand.
Forget restraint.
You couldn’t hold me back if I was chained to a mountain.
One more flick of her tongue, and I’m hard enough to split rock.
“Brady.” The faint gasp of my name has me seeing myself tugging those jeans down her slim legs and discovering what’s between them.
Then she slides up and perches on top of me, her lush hips rolling against mine like waves calling me to dive in.
Fucking madness.
Her cheeks are still damp, reeling from that harsh confession about her ex ruining her for other men—and it makes me want to find him and kick his nuts through his skull.
This isn’t real.
It isn’t supposed to be.
But every kiss, every moment, every scalding breath can’t lie.
My fingers dip down, diving under her jeans, toying with the lace underneath, pulling until she whimpers. She inhales so sharply there’s no resistance.
If I want to rip her panties off and mount her right now—
But what’s that sound?
Somewhere in the distance, there’s a sharp thud.
I’m so sex-drunk I almost ignore it.
It can’t be important when I have Lena Joly on my lap, her mouth fused to mine. If it’s some lost maintenance guy or building security making the rounds, they’ll find their way out.
I slide my hand through her hair, and it’s just as soft as I imagined.
Sweet perfection.
Then another sound. The chime of my doorbell this time.
Lena breaks away.
“Brady?” Her rosebud lips are flushed, and her eyes are mad marbles.
“Ignore it. They’ll go away.” I move in to kiss her again, but she turns her head.
“I don’t know if she will,” Lena whispers, twisting away.
She?
For the first time, I hear my name in an incoherent screech.
“Brady Pruitt, you answer this door right this fucking second!”
Goddamn, so much for paradise.