Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 126030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
“I’d really love that,” I said, gazing out the window at the beautiful tableau beyond. “But I do have to admit this is pretty spectacular. We’re sitting in a hot spring carved from stone on the top of a mountain in a gargoyle’s cairn. This isn’t something I could have even imagined existed as a Jane. And I’m sharing this awesome experience with the love of my life.”
He kissed my temple. “Very true. We do have the rest of the day off. Half is better than nothing.”
“We do.”
I turned my face toward his, my heart warming and my core suddenly aching for his touch. He bent and grazed his lips against mine before deepening the kiss. It wasn’t hard or desperate, but a promise of forever. His fingers trailed lightly across my chest before gently rubbing a taut nipple.
I sucked in a breath as delicious sensations pooled low. He kissed my jaw and throat. His hand cupped my breast before trailing down lower and sliding between my thighs. My eyelids fluttered closed, and heat rose within me.
He rubbed in small circles, his kiss becoming more intense. I moved my hips, the pleasure increasing. I reached down and captured his length, sliding my palm against it.
He growled against my lips. His hand ran to the back of my thigh before taking hold and pulling it toward him, over his lap. I knelt on the stone, my knees on either side of his thighs. Lowering, I trapped his hardness between our bodies before I slid my hips forward.
Our lips moved against each other in growing urgency. His hand slid up to cup my breast again, and I rose up, dragging his tip against me. The dim lighting fell over his handsome face, golden and soft. His eyes connected with mine, full of love and devotion, and then pleasure as I slowly sank down on top of him.
“I love you, Jacinta,” he murmured, his movements not hurried, cherishing the moment with me in this place. One thumb stroked softly over my nipple, and the other reached into the waters to restart the slow circles that drove me to distraction.
“I love you.” I moved over him, taking him deep, losing myself in his eyes. Feeling our bond in my soul.
My hands roamed, tracing his muscles and running my touch along the expanse of his shoulders. Our breath increased, mingling in the heated space between our kisses. He worked me harder, and I jerked my hips over his, the pressure building. I groaned with the feel of it, wound tight. Striving for the finish.
The explosion felt like it turned me inside out, the pleasure sparkling through me. He moaned my name and released, shaking. I leaned harder into him, holding tightly, trembling in the aftershocks.
“I needed that.” I smiled against his lips.
“When I’m around you, I always need that.” His kiss turned languid before he sighed in relaxation. “It never gets old.”
I pulled my leg away and settled in next to him again. One of his arms draped around my shoulders, pulling me in tightly, and the other sought my hand. He entwined his fingers with mine. We gazed out at the mountains in comfortable silence, enjoying each other in a rare moment of inactivity.
Nessa
“Are you going out this afternoon?” Sabby pulled his phone away to look over at her. He was resting after the skirmish, as everyone was calling it, and she was miserable with a hangover. She’d been too embarrassed to ask Indigo or Jessie to save her since they were fighting and exerting themselves, and Nessa was just living.
Today, it hurt to live.
“I don’t know. I might just stay here and do some work.”
He pulled the phone closer again. “You’re not going to do any work. You need greasy food or the hair of the dog.”
The idea of consuming more alcohol made her want to cry. But he was right, she definitely wouldn’t be working. And without a TV in this room—or maybe anywhere in the city—she’d just be staring at the ceiling.
Then again, if she did go, she’d have to brave being sober with people who’d seen the absolute mess she’d been.
Hazy recollections of John catching her from falling trickled in. Of him pulling her off the wall, where it had felt like vines held her there, and then stabilizing her to keep her from falling back into the wall again. That was in the second bar. By the third, all she had were flashes of memories. Fever dreams, almost, accompanied by black holes.
Whose great idea was it to do a shot drinking contest?
Tristan had shown up, she remembered, tall, dark and insanely gorgeous in his perfectly fitting suit and flashing amber eyes. His body was cut from the mold of a Greek god, hard everywhere and perfectly sculpted.
And then the horror of that meeting bled through.