Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
I’ll be leaving tomorrow.
And I won’t be looking back.
Forty
Henry
Standing outside Tabitha’s guest room isn’t my best look. I should go outside, find her, ask her to be with me tonight.
But what if she’s going home with that massage therapist?
I couldn’t blame her. I’ve treated her like complete shit. I’ve pushed her away when all I’ve wanted to do is hold her to me and never let go.
I’ll do that tonight.
Tonight, I’ll make love to her the way she deserves. Slowly. Tenderly. Passionately.
Not that we haven’t been passionate. But she deserves better than what I’ve been giving her. I’ll show her what I’m capable of.
Then I’ll let her go.
And hope that she’ll still be there when I’ve worked through my own issues.
How long have I been here?
Getting rid of Nora didn’t take long. She went back to the reception and is probably hanging on to some other unsuspecting man by now. Either that or she’s moping in the corner, hoping I’ll give her a sympathy kiss or something.
Tabitha, where are you?
Then I see her.
She’s walking toward me, her phone in her hand, her evening purse slung over her shoulder.
She’s reading something on her phone, and she doesn’t see me.
Until—
She gasps as she looks up. “Henry!”
“Tabitha.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you.” I pull her to me, open the door to her guest room, and kiss her.
Yes, I kiss her. And it’s just like all our other kisses, mad, passionate, devouring.
I have to slow down.
Have to.
But God, I love to kiss her. I love to make her lips raw, her skin chafed with my stubble.
I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough of her.
But I have the rest of the night to try.
So I slow down. Break the kiss.
She swallows. “I don’t think…”
“Don’t think,” I say. “Let’s not think. I can’t offer you anything other than tonight, Tabitha, but I want you. I want to make love to your body—your whole body—tonight. Not a quick fuck.”
Her lips are parted, glistening from the kiss.
She’s so beautiful. So sexy. So completely wonderful.
She says nothing.
It’s like a punch to the gut.
She’s going to say no.
Damn.
And I can’t blame her.
I look into those beautiful eyes. Those captivating eyes. “No one has eyes like you.”
She sighs. “My eyes are just brown.”
“Stop saying that. They’re the color of sunlight hitting whiskey at dusk. They’re warm, dangerous, and impossible to look away from.”
Her expression softens.
Still she says nothing.
“Tabitha, I’m not in the habit of begging for sex.”
“I’m sure you’ve never had to,” she says.
She’s right. I haven’t. But tonight—this one night—I’m willing to beg for this woman. This perfect woman.
Emotions are swirling through me that I’ve never felt. They’re hot and boiling yet tender and sweet at the same time.
“Please,” I say. “Let me make love to you.”
She rubs at her forehead. “Henry, I don’t understand. You said we had to stop this.”
“And you said that I started it.”
“You did.” Impudence laces her tone.
My dick is hard as granite, and I’m pretty sure I could take her and she wouldn’t stop me.
But I’ve done that. I’ve treated her badly.
This time, I want her consent. I want her to want me as much as I want her. Yearn for her.
I trail a finger down her cheek, along her jawline to her neck and to her shoulder. Those sexy shoulders with only the periwinkle-blue spaghetti straps covering them. “Please, Tabitha,” I say again. “I promise you a night you’ll never forget.”
“Henry…”
God, she’s killing me. I could rip her clothes off now and fuck her. Right here in the hallway of my parents’ house. I’m dying to.
I could do it.
She wouldn’t stop me. I know she wouldn’t. Her nipples are hard and protruding through the silky fabric of her dress.
I slide my hand over her door handle.
Crack open the door.
I look deep into her beautiful eyes. “Please,” I say one more time.
She nods ever so slightly.
So I grab her to me, pull her into the guest room, and shut and lock the door behind us.
Forty-One
Tabitha
Henry’s tie is loosened, the top two buttons of his shirt undone. His hair is unruly, and his demeanor…
I’m not sure. I get such mixed signals from him.
But tonight he seems sincere. Like he really wants to make love with me.
“Henry, I have to tell you something.”
“Shh.” He moves forward, pushing me backward toward the bed. “Don’t say anything.”
I want to tell him he doesn’t have to worry about me getting attached or anything. That I’m leaving tomorrow so I can attend a surgery seminar. That I can’t waste the opportunity.
I do want to tell him all of that.
But no words emerge from my throat.
When the backs of my legs touch the bed, he gently pushes me so I’m sitting. He removes my strappy sandals, discards them, and pulls me into a stand once more.
He kneels before me and raises my dress.