Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
He watches, drinking me in while he runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “It’s criminal to look that good.”
“Arrest me, then,” I challenge. “I’m ready to do time with you in that bed.”
A smirk quirks the left side of his mouth and reaches for my hand, pulling me against him again. “You’ll be doing something in that bed alright, but it isn’t going to be time.” He kisses me, then adds, “It also might include some begging.”
My eyes go wide while the desire between my legs builds. “Promise?” I grin, raising my brow.
“See?” He shakes his head, that smug smirk never leaving his stupidly handsome face. “It’s already started.”
I poke him in the abs, more to get a feel than to scold him. “That was pure trickery.” I reach down, this time lacking a tentative touch as I rub over his erection on top of those bothersome boxer briefs. Instead, I take what feels rightfully mine. Glancing up to catch his eyes already on me, I ask, “How do you feel about getting rid of these?”
“They’re all yours, babe.”
“It’s not the boxers I want.” I grab the sides and drag them down, freeing what I’ve only felt through jeans and too briefly a few moments ago. Sliding them down to his ankles, I leave them for him to handle from there so I can take in his naked body for the first time. Broad shoulders lead to that pack of eight abs, which cut a sharp V to his prominent member. His cock is perfect—large, smooth, and temptingly straight for me—but I never doubted it wouldn’t be.
I can’t ignore his legs; the muscles are long, but the strength is held in the thighs. Running. Weights. Sports. I used to love watching him play basketball with my brother outside the barn and running to score touchdown after touchdown in high school at the four-counties stadium. I even remember the first time I saw him on TV playing for Michigan State. Though football was never what I was interested in, I missed as few games as I could get away with. Sometimes my rodeo days got in the way.
This is almost too good to be real. Manifesting really works, inviting me to manifest his mouth on me right now. Down there . . .
My chin is lifted, encouraging me to stand again. “What do you want, Pris?” There’s no smirk and no humor. The question begs for a daring answer that has me suddenly nervous to utter. I shouldn’t be, but— “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
“I . . .” Feeling exposed body and soul, I move against him, needing cover. With my arms around him, his arms encircle me, and he places a kiss on my head.
He whispers against my hair, “Talk to me.”
With my cheek to his chest, I stare at the bed we made. I could kid myself and say it was for hanging out while this storm blows through, but I know we put the sheet and blanket on for having sex. And now that we’re getting closer, I realize big talk did get my offer taken just like he said.
“I want this, Tagger. I want to be with you, but teasing you and saying things that I probably shouldn’t, feels braver than I really am.” I turn my head and look up into his eyes. Dropping my gaze to the bed again, I whisper, “It’s been years.”
“What’s been years?” I hear the parting of his lips. I can feel the way his body tenses and that his arms have stilled. “Pris . . .”
I don’t know what to say, so it doesn’t surprise me that he doesn’t either. “I really lived up to the nickname, didn’t I?”
A breath leaves his chest, and he takes a deeper one in. “I’m sorry.”
I laugh humorlessly to myself. “No one is more sorry than I am that I haven’t had sex in years. Not with someone else anyway.” I shrug, not having the good sense to shut my mouth. “Images of you have come in very handy over the years.”
Stroking the back of my head, he rests his chin on the top of it. “I’m sorry for the name. I thought it was harmless.”
“It was a curse.”
He leans back. “This is bullshit.”
There’s no anger to worry about, but his clipped tone has me looking up at him again. “What is?”
“Guys are idiots for letting you slip through their fingers.” He kisses my forehead and grabs my ass, giving it a squeeze. “If it’s any consolation, I’ve had the dirtiest fucking thoughts about you and gotten off many times to those images. Watching you come while sitting on top of me had me so close to doing the same. If only the deputy wouldn’t have shown up.”
A smile works its way back onto my face. “That actually does make me feel a lot better.” It’s the little things . . . though his large and rock-hard cock is pressed against my middle. Sometimes the bigger things deserve the limelight, too.