Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 170878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 170878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
When he leaned forward, I felt his breath on my face, the heat emanating from the wall of his solid, large body. I was trapped in his orbit, and I never wanted to escape.
The world stopped spinning. Gravity ceased to exist.
I almost whined when Beau stepped back again, shutters falling over his expression. He pinched the bridge of his nose, looking down for a beat before gazing back up at me.
Heat still burned in his eyes for me, but his mouth was a thin line.
“I can’t.” The words were weights, heavy, torn out of him with effort. And I felt them crash to the bottom of my stomach.
“You want to,” I argued, more brazen than I’d ever been in my life. More confident. Because of Beau. He’d made me feel that way. Powerful. Womanly. His eyes told me that he wanted me. Wholeheartedly and indisputably. There was no room in his gaze for anything else.
“I want to,” he sighed. “I want to more than I want to fucking breathe, Hannah.” His voice dripped with hunger.
My body electrified at his admission. He wanted me. He wanted me more than he wanted to breathe.
“But I won’t do that to Clara,” he declared adamantly, face clearing of that feral longing.
I startled at the mention of his daughter, confused at what she had to do with the moment. “You’re not doing anything to Clara,” I replied.
He shook his head. “If I take you like I want…” His eyes lazily trailed over me. Possessively. I could barely hold myself up. “I wouldn’t be able to stop, Hannah. I want to fucking ruin you. Want you to scream my name at the top of your lungs. Want your body coated in my cum.”
Holy. Fuck.
Did he just say that?
Yeah, he just said that.
Did I just have a mini, tiny orgasm? Yeah. I definitely did. Never in my wildest dreams could I imagine that Beau, a man of few words, was exceptionally amazing at dirty talk. And we hadn’t even fucked yet. Hadn’t even kissed.
Beau looked up at the ceiling, kneading the back of his neck. I took in his taut body, appreciating the way his biceps stretched his shirt. Looking farther downward, I had to bite on the inside of my cheek when I saw he was as hard as a rock. I could see the outline in his jeans. He was big. My mouth moistened at the prospect of seeing it, tasting it, it being … inside me.
“Hannah,” Beau barked.
When my eyes snapped up, his features were even more wild, his body practically vibrating.
“You look at my cock for a second more, your mouth is gonna be wrapped around it, and you’ll feel it in your throat.”
My toes curled in my socks, picturing the image in my mind. “Is that meant to be a threat?” I whispered.
“It’s a fucking dream.” His jaw clenched. “I have no self-control with you. And I need to. Because I want you. It’s clear. I’m done hiding it. But I won’t take you. Because I’ll fuck it up—”
I opened my mouth to argue, but he silenced me with a glare.
“I’ll fuck it up, Hannah,” he said with finality. “Because I’m a grumpy old bastard. You’re a gorgeous young woman who buys flowers, who makes friends with my elderly neighbor, who lights up my daughter’s life with color and love. You only just got divorced. And I will not tear that down. I will not ruin that. I will not even risk it.”
He sounded resolute. Like the decision was set in stone.
I wanted to argue with him. But I couldn’t. How could I argue with a father who chose his daughter’s needs over his own?
And as much as I wanted him, wanted this, I wanted Clara happy more. I would not risk hurting her. But I couldn’t let this go, not yet. Not when Beau had shown me that he wanted me.
“You won’t fuck it up, Beau,” I whispered. “And if you do, I can handle it. I’m a big girl.”
As Beau stepped forward, I held my breath. Even with everything he just said, the finality to it, part of me still hoped for him to change his mind. For him to make good on all the carnal things he said he wanted to do to me.
His hand lifted, then he delicately, with exquisite tenderness, tucked my hair behind my ear. His eyes searched my face with an expression that took all the oxygen from the room.
Hunger still lingered in his icy eyes, but there was something else too. Reverence, like he found me beautiful. Precious. Special. Somehow, that was more world-bending than his wild desire.
“I don’t want to turn into something you have to ‘handle,’ Hannah,” he murmured. “Something you have to survive. I will not be something that causes you pain, not any more than I already have.”