Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 41634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
“You feel so goddamn good,” I mutter, slamming in again. She clenches around me, and I nearly lose it. “This pussy was made for me. All mine.”
She sobs my name like a prayer. Music to my ears. Her legs shake around my hips, and I pound faster. She’s dripping wet, desperate, and totally at my mercy. The sound Harper makes as she breaks apart drives me wild. I can’t hold back another second. I let go and come so hard it feels like the world is exploding around us.
Her pussy milks my cock, squeezing and pulsing, and she shatters under me, head tossed back, hair everywhere, chest arched so those perfect tits are begging for my mouth. I give in and bite the curve of her breast, not gentle at all. Yeah. That does it. She comes again, sobbing my name over and over.
I’m never letting her go. I thrust through every aftershock, trying to memorize the insane heat and wildness of her wrapped around me. I can’t breathe. My brain has turned to absolute mush, and there’s nothing left but need.
I collapse on top of her, pressing my face into her neck, and I can’t hold it back anymore. I whisper it, quiet but desperate. “I love you, Harper. God, I love you so fucking much.”
She goes still under me, and for a second, I think maybe I made a mistake telling her this soon. Then she cups my jaw, her eyes shining. “I love you, too, Jaxson. I really, really do. I’ve been trying to fight it, trying to remember all the reasons this shouldn’t work, but they don’t matter. None of it matters when I’m with you.”
“We can make this work.” I pull her sweet body close to my side and slowly run my hand up and down her back. “No more hiding.”
She lifts her head and places her chin on my chest. Her deep hazel eyes hold mine captive. “No more hiding. My brother is just going to have to accept our relationship.”
“I’ll take care of it,” I say as my mind whirls.
“No, I’ll tell Ryan.” Harper traces slow, lazy circles over my chest while I try to get my lungs back into working order. I’m so in love with her, it’s almost embarrassing. Crazy, wild, can’t-wait-another-minute obsessed. “I plan to do it when he’s in town next week,” she whispers, her chin digging into my pec. That’s right. I’d almost forgotten we have a game against the Titans next week. “He wants to meet me for lunch.”
My blood instantly lights on fire. “I’ll go with you.”
She shakes her head. “I need to do this myself.”
My girl is nothing if not stubborn. It’s one of a million things I fucking love about her. I want to argue. Hell, I want to be there when she breaks the news to Ryan, but the determination in her eyes stops me. She wants to fight her own battles, and I’m smart enough to let her.
“Whatever you need, baby. Just know I’ve got your back.” I pull her tight against my chest and bury my face in her wild hair. She smells like vanilla and rain and pure Harper. “If he gives you any shit, I’ll kick his ass. Hell, I plan to kick his ass on the ice no matter what.”
She rolls her eyes and snorts. “If he gives me trouble, I’ll kick his ass.”
Fuck yes. She couldn’t be any more goddamn perfect.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
HARPER
The steam from my coffee cup rises in a thin, mocking ribbon, disappearing into the ambient noise of the bistro before I can even take a sip. I’ve spent the last ten minutes tracing the grain of the wooden table with my thumbnail, cataloging every imperfection in the varnish while I wait for the storm to arrive. Ryan is late, which probably means he overslept or ran into some fans.
I check my phone for the tenth time, my thumb hovering over Jaxson’s name in my recent messages. He’d sent a meme of a goat licking the camera with the caption: You goats this. I laughed so hard I almost spit my coffee all over my phone screen.
The bell above the door jingles, a sharp, cheerful sound that sets my nerves on edge. Ryan strides in, looking like he owns the place. He spots me and grins.
"Hey, Harp," he says, sliding into the booth across from me and bringing the scent of cold air and expensive cologne with him. He leans over to kiss my cheek. "How’s it going, shorty?"
God, I hate that nickname. “Great, string bean.”
Ryan scoffs, flagging down a waitress with a casual wave of his hand. The waitress arrives, and Ryan orders a massive burger and a side of fries without looking at the menu. I settle for a salad I know I won't eat.