Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“It’ll get better. I don’t have any calluses anymore. Just when my feet adjust, it’ll be time for the performance, then it’ll all be over.”
“Hmm.” He kisses my temple. “What can I make you to eat?”
I let this sweet moment soak into my pores as I lean against him. I do believe that Beckett’s love language is acts of service. He’s constantly caring for me and pampering me. His aftercare once we’ve finished making love is next-level brilliant. He’s always making sure I’m comfortable and never hungry.
It’s no wonder that I fell in love with him so quickly.
“I should probably have a protein smoothie and some chicken.”
“What do you want, baby?” He’s still peppering my head with kisses.
“A cheeseburger.” I laugh against him, and he tightens his arms around me. “But I can’t do that. I’m working too hard. The protein is good for me. Maybe we can have pasta for dinner. I could use the carbs, too. I’m burning a lot of calories right now.”
“You can have whatever you want.”
“You say that to me often, Mr. Blackwell.”
“Because it’s true.” He buries his lips in my hair. “Why don’t we curl up for a while and read when you’re done here?”
“Wow, you’re really spoiling me today.”
“Get used to it, baby.”
I’m definitely getting used to it. It’s been nine days of being spoiled, of living here at the farm, and aside from some bad dreams and waking up in a cold sweat because of everything The Arsehole has done to me, I’ve mostly felt at peace. All because of this man.
I’m not simply used to it. I’m keeping him if it’s the last thing I do.
Chapter Twenty-Four
BECKETT
“I can walk, Beck.” Skyla’s arms are curled around my neck as I carry her out of the bathroom.
“No.” After kissing her temple, I snatch her reading device off the bedside table and carry my girl downstairs to the living room.
We like to curl up in the corner of the sectional to read together. It’s become a routine in the evenings, one of my favorite things to do with her.
I enjoy the stories, but mostly, I just like being with her. With the woman of my dreams, curled up to my side, hugging me as we read to each other.
I know my brothers would give me shit for it but fuck that. I like it. Looks like Bridger was right after all. Not that I’d tell him that.
After I get Skyla settled under a blanket, I kiss her head. “Want some tea?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I want you to sit with me.”
“I’m getting you water, then.”
Riley follows me into the kitchen and indicates he wants to go out, so I open the door for him, and he bounds out to do his thing. Skyla prefers her water with lemon in it, so by the time I fill a glass with ice, water, and the fresh lemon, Riley’s ready to come back in.
“A bottle of water would have been just fine,” she says when I pass her the glass, and Riley curls up on his bed.
“You like it this way, so you’ll have it this way.” I catch her chin in my fingers and kiss her sweet lips. “Ready to read?”
“Hmm.” She wakes up the device and passes it to me, which makes my lips curl up in a smile. Although we typically take turns reading, she prefers it when I read to her. We started a book last night about a motorcycle club president and a girl who just moved back to her hometown after being dumped by her stupid boyfriend.
Mafia to motorcycle clubs. Who knew this would be my life?
It’s not long before said president has the girl alone, in his bedroom, and up against the wall.
I glance down, and Skyla has that lower lip trapped in her teeth. Her hand squeezes my bicep, and I decide to have a little fun.
“Here, Irish. Your turn to read.”
My girl frowns up at me. “You’re tired already?”
“Not tired.” I shake my head and insist she take the device. “Just keep reading.”
“If you have to go to the bathroom, I can wait—”
I cut her off with my mouth on hers. “Just read, baby.”
She shrugs, skims the page, then picks up where I left off as I kneel on the floor between her legs. I tuck my fingers in the waistband of her leggings and tug them down her hips, legs, and then off completely, tossing them aside along with her panties. Skyla gasps, watching me.
“Read.” My voice is hard, and her pupils blow wide at the command, but she keeps watching me, so I push up and frame her face in my hands, kiss her hard, and pull back. “Read to me, gorgeous. Don’t stop. If you stop reading, you don’t get to come.”
“Beckett.”
“No, I think his name is Wolf.” I smirk and kiss her neck before I make my way back south. “Do it.”