Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
“Fiona,” he said, sliding a hand into my hair and gripping it just the right way. He tilted my head back, exposing my neck before teasing me with a playful bite. “You’re going to ruin me,” he said, flicking his tongue over the bite.
I sighed, damn near shaking with the strength it took to keep him poised just at the center of me. And when I looked up at him, finding that carnal lust had been replaced by something I couldn’t quite place? I released my hold on him, and he slammed home with a growl that shook us both.
Again.
And again.
He hit that spot so deep inside me, I shattered around him, my entire body splintering as I came. Brogan kissed me like he could drink my moans, sending me into freaking orbit as he found his own release inside me.
Our breaths matched in ragged huffs as he held himself above me, never once letting up on the kiss that threatened to steal my breath entirely. Damn, this man. He kissed like he fucked, hard and intense, consuming and tender. And I was totally, wholly hooked.
Brogan broke the kiss, loosening his grip on my hair as he smoothed it back. He looked me over, making no move to leave. And I didn’t want him to, but when he looked at me like that, it looked like he wanted answers.
Answers to questions I didn’t have.
Answers that involved definitions and labels. Things I was incredibly, thoroughly bad at.
“Fiona,” he said, my name a whisper between us. “I—”
A loud wail broke the bubble we’d been suspended in all night, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
He gently moved off of me, hopping out of the bed and hurrying into his bathroom. He grabbed a towel, shocking the hell out of me as he cleaned me up, and then slipped into a pair of sweats.
“I’ve got her,” he said, lingering in the doorway for just a second, his eyes scanning the length of my naked body as if he was taking a mental picture. Then he spun out of his room, hurrying toward his daughter.
I lay there, slightly in shock at what had just happened.
What we’d done.
Forget crossing a line, we’d taken that thing and burned it to ash.
And now I didn’t have a clue where that left me.
I flipped through the pile of mail I’d tossed on the kitchen island. Skye was happily napping in her bouncer in the living room, and I sat on a barstool that gave me a clear view of her. Brogan was at practice, and the house was eerily quiet. I’d been avoiding my mail for a while now, so what better time to sort junk from important?
Twelve flyers for local businesses later, I gripped a thick cardstock envelope with delicate gold script across the center. My chest tightened as I saw who it was from—my mother. I rolled my eyes, sighing as I slipped my finger beneath the flap and tore the thing open. I’d seen half a dozen of these things since I’d moved out on my own, but the shock never wore off when I pulled the announcement out.
We’re Engaged!
Please join us as we celebrate the engagement of
Ruth and Paul
November 15th @ 7pm
I shook my head, tossing the invitation in the junk pile. Because that’s what it was—junk. Did I love my mother? Yes. Did I have massive issues with the way she lived her life? Also, yes. But I wasn’t a little girl anymore. I wasn’t responsible for her or my siblings anymore. She could get engaged and married as many times as she wanted, and now that she was even older? There wasn’t a risk of pregnancy, so at least, that was a saving grace. I couldn’t imagine my fifty-plus mother trying to take care of a newborn, and my caregiving skills were already well accounted for.
I glanced at Skye while I gathered up the junk and tossed it in the garbage. She was still sleeping soundly, a freaking miracle, and pulled up the Reapers’ schedule on my cell. Elation rippled through me as I saw an away game date, and then I quickly dialed my mother’s number. I had the perfect excuse this time to skip out on the engagement party. I’d been to my fair share, and it always was a cringe-fest. Not because my mother didn’t deserve to be happy, but because I could see through the façade like I had special X-ray glasses. She and whatever husband of the month she’d landed may have looked happy during parties and events, but once all that faded? There was nothing left. No real connection, nothing to bond them together for the rest of forever. And when I could see all that? I didn’t really see the point in committing to getting to know someone who wouldn’t be around for the long haul.