Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“Are you concussed?” he asked.
She burst out laughing. “No.”
Oh. Water dripped from his hair, slid down his neck, and soaked into a shirt he barely felt anymore. Every nerve in his body lit up as awareness crashed through him with brutal clarity. The storm, the cold, and the adrenaline didn’t touch the heat detonating low and hard inside him.
Yeah, he was accustomed to women making the move on him in town. Often. But this was May Smirnov. She was too good for him. It was the truth. “May…” Her name scraped out rough, thick with a warning he wasn’t sure was meant for her or himself.
She stepped closer.
His body locked in. He saw it then. The same hunger raging through him reflected back in those impossible blue eyes. Not uncertainty. Not hesitation. Need.
Raw. Open. Undeniable.
“You saved my life,” she whispered.
Ah, fuck. Yeah, that made sense. “I know. You’re grateful.” Not once in his entire life had he been a pity screw, and that wasn’t happening now. “You’re not thinking. Just feeling.” God, she was stunning. Even all wet and muddy, the woman had class.
A new light flickered in her eyes. Amusement? “I’m not that grateful, dude. Not even close.”
He decided to join in the fun. “Why not? Without me, you’d be a barbecued blonde.”
Her jaw dropped and her lips twitched. “You did not just say that.”
Yeah, he had. “There’s definitely something here, Doc. You feel it and so do I. But it was a rough afternoon, we could’ve died, and emotions get the best of all of us. I don’t want to take advantage of you. Ever.” His body rioted and he shoved hunger down. Hard.
“I’m not a silly tourist, Ace Osprey,” she whispered.
No shit. She was the sexy woman he’d been dreaming about for many months. His flirting had been harmless because she was way too smart to take a chance on a guy like him. At least right now, until he fixed his head. “I’m a bad bet, baby.”
Now one of her eyebrows arched, and a small chunk of mud fell onto the floor. “Who says I’m betting on you? Maybe I just want to take your hot body and reputation for a spin.”
He grinned. Yeah, she was cute. “That’s bullshit.”
She shrugged, and more mud fell onto the rug by his door. “Are you saying you’re not interested?”
“You know I am.” He hadn’t hidden anything from her.
“So what’s the problem?” She took another step toward him, no indecision in her stunning eyes. No confusion. “I’m not asking for anything beyond this night, Osprey.”
Yeah. That was the fucking problem. He wanted more than a night and always had with her. From the first second they’d met. But he’d known he had to deal first. “How about we go on a date?”
“Don’t want a date,” she whispered, her dirty hands pulling her sweater over her head. Her bra was a light pink with a heart in the middle.
Something inside him snapped.
Months of control shattered in an instant.
He closed the distance and grabbed her. His hand locked around her waist and pulled her hard against him. Heat ripped through him. Fast. Brutal. Her palms hit him, and even soaked and shaking from the cold, she burned straight through him.
His other hand slid into her wet hair, his fingers tightening as he held her there. As if letting go wasn’t an option anymore. He lowered his head and stopped just short of her mouth. His breath came rough, and control was almost a distant memory. “Tell me to stop.” The words came out like a demand. Like a plea.
She answered by kissing him.
The second her soft lips touched his, he was gone. He groaned low in his throat, the sound ripping straight from somewhere primal. His mouth claimed hers instantly, hunger roaring free after being caged far too long. The kiss wasn’t gentle. Couldn’t be. It was heat and desperation and months of wanting her crashing into reality.
Finally.
Her fingers fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer, and that tiny movement nearly undid him. He tightened his grip at her waist, dragging her flush against him. She was so damn soft. So utterly feminine.
His brain shorted out.
There was only sensation.
Her.
Only the intoxicating taste of her mouth, the soft gasp she breathed against his lips, the way she melted into him like she belonged there. Like she’d always belonged there.
He deepened the kiss, losing himself in the feel of her. Heat coiled violently through his bloodstream, desire crashing into adrenaline until he couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. He tore his mouth from hers. “Shower,” he said.
Because if he didn’t redirect this, didn’t move, didn’t do something—
She nodded, eyes dark, lips swollen, breath unsteady.
He took her hand. Even that simple contact felt charged and electric, her cold fingers sliding into his like a perfect fit. He led her down the hallway, alarms already going off in his head. It was too late. Everything felt unreal and heightened, like the world had narrowed to this single, inevitable collision.