Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“Sure.”
“What’s my favorite color?”
“Well, you like neutrals in terms of décor. But you secretly love purple the most. Probably because it was your grandmother’s favorite color.”
Wow.
“When’s my birthday?”
“December twenty-eighth.”
“What was my grandma’s name?”
“Agatha. And you would love to use it for a baby. Either for a first or middle name.”
“What am I afraid of?”
“On a surface level: geese. You got chased once and bit on the arm.”
“And deeper than surface?” I asked, pulling back enough to look up at him.
“You’re afraid that people will see your vulnerabilities and use them against you. You’re afraid that if you don’t tightly control everything, it will all fall apart. You’re afraid that you’ll never be part of a family or have a family. And, I think, beneath it all, it boils down to being terrified that you aren’t lovable.”
His arms gave me a squeeze.
“And I’m here to tell you that the right man will help you manage everything and would never dream of using your softness against you. You can have any kind of family you decide you want. And last but certainly not least, you are absolutely, one hundred percent lovable.”
“B—”
“And I know that,” he cut me off before I could voice any kind of silly objection, “because I’ve been in love with you almost since the moment I met you.”
My heart flipped in my chest, a strange, fluttering sensation that had me sucking in a shocked breath.
“And I think I fell a little harder each time I learned something new about you over the years. I funneled them away, kept them close, knowing I couldn’t have you.”
“Nico…” I said, blinking back the sting of tears.
“Then, one day, it wasn’t forbidden anymore. But the timing felt wrong. And then I wasn’t sure how you’d feel when you learned the truth of who I am.”
“Who you are is the kindest, most generous person I’ve ever met.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I don’t care what you do.”
I didn’t.
Not after what we’d shared over the past several weeks. And especially the last few days.
“This might not be the only time, in a life with me, where there will be danger like this. Or worse,” he warned. “And, of course, a connection with me might mean a close eye from law enforcement. New things you’d need to learn about and systems to live by.”
“Well, in that case,” I said, feeling him tense, “I guess it’s a good thing that I am a fast learner.”
“You’re sure?” he asked, voice filled with hope.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been sure about anything in my life before.”
His hands slid up to frame my face, watching me with the warmest, gooiest eyes for a moment. Then his lips were on mine, soft and sweet at first. Then harder, deeper, full of all the feelings building in us.
Nico’s arms moved down my neck, over my shoulders, followed the slope of my back, then sank into my ass. He lifted me up, his lips on mine the whole time, then carried me back to the bedroom.
He set me down on my feet, his hands drifting over mine as his tongue tangled with mine, dragging a little whimper out of me.
His fingers snagged the hem of my shirt and started to draw it slowly up.
His head dipped, lips whispering down my ear, neck, shoulder.
Goosebumps spread across my skin, little shivers racking my system as his hands grazed—gently removing my bra, my pants, my panties.
My own hands were just as needy—pushing off his jacket, his shirt, removing his belt and pants, then, finally, his underwear.
Before I could explore him, though, he was pressing me flat across the bed, his body leaning over mine, holding himself up, save for his head.
His lips were all over me then.
Sliding down my neck, over my clavicle, down my chest, then over, his tongue circling my nipple until I was arching up into him, my fingers fisted in the sheets.
He shifted slightly, lips sucking my nipple into his mouth until I cried out. Then he moved across my chest to continue the sweet torment.
I was whimpering, begging, trying to grab and pull him up, desperate for the weight of him, for the stretch of him inside me.
But he was unmoved.
He continued his path downward, tongue tracing around my belly button, then across my hips, down my thigh, the inside of my knee, calf, then back up the other leg.
Then finally—finally—slipping between.
The press of his tongue just where I needed it most sent shocks through my system, making me cry out and grab his head, holding him against me as he started to circle.
My hips rocked against him, my fingers fisting his hair, my thighs crushing his head.
I was pure, mindless need.
So much so that when I yanked hard enough on his hair, desperate for the feel of him, he finally came over me.