Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
I stumbled over the cursed wastebasket, accidentally kicking it against the cabinet with a bang and falling forward into Wolfe. He guided my face to his, and then we were kissing again.
I wasn’t strong enough for this. The taste of him, the feel of him… the fucking intoxicating scent of him were enough to ruin any rational thought I’d ever possessed. How was I supposed to deny myself something so tempting when it was offering itself up on a fucking platter?
So I folded.
I reached for his face and kissed him back, hard. Then I kneed up onto the bed and pushed him back into the blankets as I laid part of my weight on him.
He let out a breathy moan as he reached around me and shoved his hands up my shirt to feel my bare back.
As soon as the edge of my shirt lifted, I felt the cool breeze from outside, enough to remind me of the open van door.
“Wait,” I murmured against his lips. I pulled back to climb off him, just long enough to close the van door, but he misinterpreted it.
“Please don’t leave again!” His voice sounded desperate, anguished.
As soon as I slammed the door closed, I moved back, making shushing noises and reassuring him. “Baby, I’m not leaving. I’m right here.”
I climbed on the bed and propped myself over him again, hating the distress in his eyes. “I’m right here,” I repeated, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Right here.” Another kiss to his cheek. “Not leaving.” One to his forehead.
Wolfe blew out a shaky breath. “You don’t need to make any promises, Trace. Just… just don’t go right now. Okay? I don’t want you to go.”
Fuck, he was so sweet. So incredibly vulnerable. The man had never been able to hide his emotions from me, and right now, they were clear as day.
“I’m not leaving,” I said again, but I held myself back from adding the word promise.
Instead, I kissed him once more, ignoring the screaming warning sirens blaring in my head.
I could only be strong for so long. And apparently, my strength had finally run out.
11
WOLFE
I’d fantasized about Trace so often, I was nearly convinced this was a dream. Any minute now, I would wake up alone in a cold van with nothing but my memories and a raging hard-on. It had happened too many times to count.
“Baby, take a breath.”
I blinked up at Trace. The afternoon sun streamed in through the van’s windows and picked out golden streaks in his wavy brown hair. I reached up to touch them, to run my hands through them in a way I’d never been allowed to do before.
“I’m breathing,” I said, but it sounded a little breathless now that I heard myself.
He looked down at me with this… fond expression on his face that made me feel cared for in a way I hadn’t for a very long time. A mix of the gentle affection like I got from my family, but also the clear interest and preference I’d felt from Jake last night.
I’d never had both of those things in one person before.
“You’re going to change your mind and leave,” I said. It wasn’t an accusation so much as a statement because I knew it was true. It was inevitable.
Trace brushed my hair back again. I tried not to lean into his touch too shamelessly, but I probably failed.
His eyes were piercing. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Talk,” I scoffed. “No. Fuck no.”
He started to move off me again, but I tightened my fingers on the muscles of his back, holding him in place. “Do not get off this bed,” I warned. “I don’t want to talk. We’ve been talking. Talking isn’t going to make this go away.”
I arched up into him while pulling him down, grinding my hardening cock into his hip.
His mouth curled up in a teasing smile. “And you need help making that go away?”
I ran my fingers through Trace’s hair again. It was a little overgrown and shaggy, which made him even sexier. His face was its usual combination of slightly wind- and sunburned, with visible laugh lines by his eyes that I wanted to stroke with my fingertips.
“I want help making it go away,” I corrected. “But I want you to promise me you won’t leave without telling me first. And that you won’t tell me I don’t know what I want because I’m a fucking child.”
His large hand smoothed down to cup my cheek. “I’m sorry, baby. You deserved better than that.”
“I did, and I do. I’m thirty, Trace. That may be hard for you to wrap your head around, but I’m not the seven-year-old kid you once knew.”
He made a face. “Can we not talk about seven-year-old Wolfe right now? That would help.”
I reached for his hand and pulled it down to press against the bulge in my pants. “Not a child.”