Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Maybe later.
“I’m good.”
He turns and smiles at me, takes the bag from me, and slings it over one shoulder.
“Let’s go get cozy,” he says.
With our hands linked once more, we leave the cabin, and I lock up behind me, although there’s no one out here to bother my stuff, and then we return to the house.
“It still gets cold fast at night,” I say as a shiver rolls through me while we climb the stairs to the back door.
Tucker gets me inside, and I immediately start cleaning up our dinner plates, but he stops me.
“I’ll do that.”
“It’ll only take a second—”
“Duchess, I know you like to argue, but I’m telling you to leave it. I’ll need something to distract me while you’re naked in my shower.”
I bite my lip and smile at him.
“Why?”
I know why, I just want to hear him say it.
“Because I want to boost you up against the tile and fuck you into next week, but in the shower is not where I’ll have you for the first time, so you’d better go make yourself comfortable, and I’ll take care of this.”
I wasn’t expecting him to say it like that.
“Go, Duchess.” His voice is harder, leaving no room for argument, so without another word, I grab my bag, leave the kitchen, and head up the stairs to his primary suite.
The bathroom is amazing.
The tub was an experience that I hope to repeat in the future.
And that bed looks so fucking comfortable. Not to mention, it’s the perfect height for me to bend over the side.
Jesus, Darby, you’re a horny bitch. Rein it in for Christ’s sake.
With a smirk, I turn on the water in the shower, then shed my dirty clothes, grab my shampoo, conditioner, and soap, and stand under the hot, soothing spray.
The water pressure is divine. No little trickle here. I let it pound on my back, enjoying the way the hot water feels as it flows down my ass and thighs.
No, I’m not freaked out after what happened with Peter today. I’ve survived far worse than that. I was angry, and shaken from the adrenaline, but now I feel fine. And by fine, I mean I want to jump on Tucker so he can do things to me that make me scream his name.
Clearly, the silicone boyfriend hasn’t been doing it for me.
But it’s not just about getting off. I mean, that’s a big part of it, but I want to be stripped down with him. I’ve already been as emotionally exposed as it gets. We’ve shared secrets. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t discuss his mother abandoning his family often, and I feel honored that he shared it with me.
I’m ready to take whatever this is further. And yeah, that startles me because I’m the one-night-stand girl. I don’t do relationships. Hell, I’ve never even been the one to sleep with a guy twice.
Don’t judge me, I have trust issues.
But I can’t imagine feeling that way about Tucker. The thought of only getting to sleep with him once makes me fidget. Once wouldn’t be enough. Hell, ten times wouldn’t be enough. He’s only kissed me, and I know that much. His hands on me are heaven. His mouth should come with some sort of health warning.
May cause your ovaries to start shooting eggs like a machine gun.
I smirk as I rinse my hair, and then I quickly shave my legs because, well, I’m being optimistic.
The soothing hot water makes me sleepy, which doesn’t surprise me in the least since I hardly sleep these days. So when it’s time to turn off the water, my movements are slow as I towel dry my hair until it’s just damp, and then brush through it and weave it into a braid down my back and clean my teeth. I manage to pull on panties and the T-shirt, and then forgo the leggings as I walk out to the bedroom.
Tucker must have come up here while I was in the shower because the bedside light is on, and that bed looks amazing.
“I’ll just try it out. See if it’s as comfortable as it looks.”
What’s the harm?
Just call me Goldilocks.
As soon as my knees hit the top of the mattress, I know it’s even more comfortable than I expected. I crawl up and bury my face in his pillow and let out a moan.
A freaking moan.
Because holy shit, it smells like Tucker, and it feels amazing. I could sleep here. Even on those nights when I’m restless and the bad memories set in, I know that I could just sink right in and let go, and maybe even drift off without nightmares.
That would feel incredible.
But Tucker’s waiting for me, and I need to go downstairs. My phone is just feet away, and I could text him and ask him if we can hang out here tonight, but texting the man who’s in the same house as me feels . . . lazy.