Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
She nods. “The entire time I was gone, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Wanting you. No matter how much I fought it, I couldn’t stop from falling in love with you. I’ve spent so much of my life letting fear guide my choices. And I almost let it happen again with you.”
I stand frozen, trying to absorb the words I’ve waited my whole life to hear. Then I’m on the move, eating up the distance between us until I can cup her face in my hands. My thumb sweeps across the curve of her jaw.
“You love me?”
Her gaze stays locked on mine. “I do. If I’m being honest, I have for a while. But I was too scared to admit it to myself, and you.”
I lean closer, brushing my forehead against hers.
For a moment, only the sound of our breathing fills the air. It reminds me of that faint, fast tempo we heard in the doctor’s office. The one that changed everything. Proof that what we made is still there, alive and waiting for us to find our way back to it.
“I know,” I whisper. “And it’s okay. I love you too. I was just patiently waiting for you to realize you felt the same.”
A small smile tugs at her lips. “Patiently, huh?”
I grin. “Well, you certainly took your sweet damn time doing it.”
Her shoulders shake as she leans into me, laughter dissolving into a quiet, unsteady sigh. For the first time in days, the tension that’s plagued me finally loosens.
Because she’s here.
In my arms.
Exactly where she was always meant to be.
Tomorrow, there’ll be noise with the team and the press. But for tonight, none of it matters. It’s just us, and the promise of something new.
49
Rina
When he leans in and his mouth finds mine, the kiss unfurls gradually, like sunlight spreading across still water.
Oliver’s hands frame my face, as if he can’t quite believe I’m real. His thumbs trace deliberate circles along my jaw, grounding me in the moment. His lips move against mine with a patience that undoes me more than any rush ever could. I taste mint, the faint salt of skin, and something that’s purely him. It’s warm, clean, and familiar. It anchors me, even as the rest of the world fades into the background.
When he draws away, his forehead stays pressed to mine, our breaths tangling in the fragile space between us.
“The way you look in my jersey, baby…” he murmurs, “there’s no way I’ll ever forget it.” His gaze darkens as it drifts lower. “Although, as good as you look… I can’t wait to strip it off you.”
“Funny,” I whisper, “I was thinking the same thing.”
His mouth curves into a smile that’s lazy, confident, and full of promise. He catches the hem of the jersey and lifts it, his knuckles brushing a deliberate path along my skin.
My hips.
My waist.
My ribs.
Every touch sets off another wave of desire. My composure fractures when his fingers graze the undersides of my breasts, and a jolt of electricity shoots straight through me. The fabric whispers over my skin as he slides it higher.
Then it’s gone, discarded somewhere behind him, leaving the cool air to kiss my bare flesh while his heated gaze follows, worshipful and possessive all at once.
For a second, he simply stares. There’s only the intense pull of his gaze, as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of me.
“You’re so damn beautiful.”
His adoration sears everywhere, racing beneath my skin and thrumming through my veins before pooling in my belly until it’s almost unbearable.
He strips off his shirt in one smooth motion before dropping it to the floor. The clink of his belt comes next, then the rasp of denim sliding down his muscular thighs. Each sound is amplified in the hush between us. Every piece of clothing that falls away feels like another wall crumbling, another mile of distance disappearing.
When he’s finally bare, he pauses. It’s not to pose or preen but to let me see him.
Really see him.
Moonlight spills through the window, washing his skin in both silver and shadow. The sculpted planes of his chest rise and fall with each breath, and for a moment, I forget how to take one of my own.
When I reach out, he closes the distance between us without hesitation. The mattress dips beneath his weight as the faint scent of cedar and spice settles around us. His hand finds the curve of my hip, rough palm skimming upward, claiming each inch with measured strokes until he finds my breast.
His thumb traces a lazy circle across my flesh, and my body answers with a helpless arch.
Our mouths find one other again, hungrier this time. The kiss deepens, unfurling into something that scatters every single thought as his tongue slides against mine.
He shifts, fitting his body over mine until we’re chest to chest. The world narrows to the slick slide of him between my thighs and the sound he makes when I tremble beneath him.