Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 132951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“Why so responsible?”
“Just thinking about the things that irk you, like wet socks.”
“I really do loathe wet socks.”
“I’ll always look out for what’s best for you, even if it means delaying your gratification to save your irritation.” He drops to one knee on the mat and tugs the zipper down on the back of my boots.
He holds the heel, and I brace a hand on his shoulder so I can step out of them one at a time. “So thoughtful.”
“Just trying to be what you deserve, darling.”
While Connor loosens his own laces, I run my fingers through his silky, dark hair. I’ve missed him, especially this part—the soft version of Connor who wants to take care of me and values my happiness. He was always there. It just took us a little time to bring him to the surface and keep him there.
“Every time you showed up for one of Callie’s hockey games and sat next to me, every time you opened your arms and heart for that little girl and gave her all the best parts of you, my heart opened a little more for you. I saw you.”
“I want to be that for you.” Connor wraps his arms around me, and I sink into the embrace.
I rest my cheek against his chest, feeling his heart beating. “I want you to be that person for you, too.”
His fingers trail up my arms. “Thank you for giving me another chance.” He cups my face in his warm palms.
My stomach flutters with anticipation, and I tip my head up, waiting.
Connor lowers his mouth to mine. This kiss is a promise of what the future can hold: a life full of love, and warmth, and happiness.
I take his hand and guide him through my apartment to my bedroom.
It’s simply furnished with a double bed, nightstand, dresser, and full-length mirror. It’s nothing like my opulent bedroom at Grace Manor, or the one I shared with Connor after the wedding and will be happy to return to, but this space is full of memories.
It’s more than just a gift from my grandmother, a piece of my history, and a link to the woman I’ll never know. It gave me the family I have now, including the man beside me.
He moves behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. He inhales deeply and exhales on a sigh. “It’s so perfectly you.” He drops his head, pressing his cheek against my neck. “It smells like you.”
He adds another bracelet to my wrist that reads Connor’s Little Menace. Each one represents another piece of us, a collection of memories for me to treasure.
I turn in his arms, linking my fingers behind his neck. He dips down to kiss me gently. There’s a relief in being touched by him—the feel of his lips on mine, his hands in my hair. We undress slowly, taking our time, mouths exploring each newly exposed inch of skin as we bare ourselves for each other.
Connor pulls the comforter down and lifts me onto the bed, then stretches out next to me. He takes up most of the space with his massive frame, and I love it. His erection nudges my hip as he traces the dip at my collarbones with a single finger. Need and desire swim in his eyes, but it’s accompanied by so many other emotions, I could drown in them.
“How would you like me to love you, darling? Am I allowed to take my time, or are you feeling too impatient?”
I skim the curve of his bottom lip with gentle fingers. “I suppose it depends on how villainous you’re feeling.”
He rolls over on top of me, legs bracketing mine as he props himself on one elbow and trickles his fingers slowly along my neck, over my breast, skimming my nipple before drifting lower. “Scale of one to ten?” His voice is all gravel.
“I think you’re already at an eleven?”
“Maybe even a twelve.” He sucks my bottom lip.
I hook my leg over his as he presses into my hot sex and his erection slides over my stomach. “That’s quite the evil mood.”
“You want it to be memorable, remember?” He shifts, one thigh settling between mine, and his lips find the edge of my jaw. “Close your eyes for me, please.”
“I want to see you,” I admit.
“In a bit.” He lifts his head, steel eyes meeting mine. “I want your sweet moans of surprise filling the room. I missed them.”
“Kiss me first?” I ask.
“Of course, darling.”
My eyes flutter closed as he slants his mouth over mine, tongue soft, each stroke light and languid. I want more of his weight on me, more of his skin pressed against mine. I try to pull him down, rub myself against his thigh, but it’s not enough. And of course he knows it.
He breaks the kiss and presses his lips against each eyelid—a reminder to keep them closed—and the most delicious torment begins. Soft lips on my skin, fingers trailing, thigh pressing against me, the head of his cock wet against my stomach.