Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 83800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
I lean in when he kisses me, wrapping my arms around his waist and feeling at home for the first time in my life.
It thrilled me when he mentioned being in the hospital after having his babies, but I didn't let myself read too much into that since we were both still high on great sex.
"We better get dressed," he suggests. "If we keep kissing while standing here naked, we'll never leave the room."
"I'm okay with—"
My stomach interrupts with a loud growl, once again ruining the moment.
He smiles against my lips before pulling back a few inches. With his hands still on my face, he whispers, "We have a lifetime, Morgan."
I swallow, suddenly overcome with emotion as I dip my head in agreement, but there will always be that worry in the back of my mind.
Do we really have a lifetime if his twin brother is hell-bent on ruining what we have?
I know I can't live every second of every day worrying about when the other shoe is going to drop. That's no way to try and have a happy life, so I lift up on the tips of my toes and press my lips to his one more time before taking a step back.
"A lifetime," I agree. "Let's start with food."
"Let's start with clothes," he counters as he turns away and reaches into his dresser drawer for a t-shirt and some sweats, which he hands to me.
I pull the shirt over my head and work the sweats up my legs, having to roll them at the waist to keep them up, but they seem like they'll stay up long enough to get something to eat. I make a mental note to get with Ellis about getting clothes from my house as I look and find Robert glaring at me.
"What?" I say, looking down at the sweats. "There's nothing I can do about the size."
"You need a sweatshirt."
"The house isn't cold enough to need one," I argue.
He glares again, his eyes lowering to my chest.
"My nipples?" I ask, lifting my hands to the fabric of the t-shirt.
He grumbles something under his breath as he turns away, and although that possessive, bossy attitude never did anything for me before, I think I like how territorial he seems right now.
He pulls a sweatshirt from a hanger in the closet and walks it back toward me.
"Better," he says when I pull it over my head. "Let's go."
I stand stock still in the middle of his room.
"What are you waiting for?" he asks when he opens the bedroom door.
He holds his hand out to me, curling his fingers over and over to urge me to move.
"Really?" I ask, my tone filled with humor. "You demand I wear a sweatshirt because my nipples are pressing against the fabric, and yet you're going to leave the room like that?"
I wave my arm in his direction, indicating the erection he's had most of the morning that no matter how many times I've made him come, seems to pop right back up.
He looks down, his cheeks pinking with embarrassment.
"Shit."
"Yeah, shit," I say as I watch him scramble to find clothes for himself.
"I was distracted."
"I know you were, " I say as he dresses, pulling on a pair of sweats and a clean t-shirt from his dresser.
"Better," I tell him as I approach and run my finger through his unruly hair.
He leans forward, mouth prepared to take mine, and I have to pull back at the last second because as much as I want to spend every second kissing this man, I'm starving.
"Food," I say, pressing my lips to his cheek.
He gives my ass a rough squeeze before taking my hand and pulling me from the room.
"It's early afternoon, but I'm still craving breakfast," he says as we make our way down the stairs.
"I'm not the best cook," I confess.
"Breakfast is the one thing I can cook."
"Good," I say with a wide smile. "I was going to ask about delivery if you offered another Hot Pocket or something similar."
His laughter draws the attention of everyone in the kitchen when we clear the bottom of the stairs, and I feel like I'm under a microscope as the guys look in my direction.
Yesterday was so hard for me, and knowing they've all seen me victimized doesn't make me entering the room any easier. Robert tightens his grip on my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze as we walk up to the kitchen island.
"Good afternoon," Ellis says, prompting Kaylee to turn from the stove.
"Hey," she says with a wide smile, her eyes searching mine as if she trying to figure out if I'm really okay.
"Good afternoon," I manage as Robert releases my hand and makes his way to the fridge to get supplies for breakfast.
"You okay?" Bandera asks.
I give him a little nod. "Thank you for asking."