Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
The kiss wasn’t sweet—it consumed. Full of every negative experience we’d survived.
My breath hitched against hers. “I can’t do this. Keep kissing you like this, Tash.”
She pressed her lips against mine in another hard kiss, nipping my bottom lip. “Will you help me forget? The frustrations? Just focus on us?”
“You wanted to get married first, Tash,” I rasped.
“Okay,” she whispered, eyes searching mine. “Right here, right now. God is here. He’s everywhere. Heck … half of my lineage’s backstory included marriages that stayed between them and God because of slavery. So … marry me, Lachlan MacKenzie.”
Her words hit me in a place I’d ignored for years. I grasped her hand and slid out a bent coin from my pocket with my good hand. I placed it onto her palm. My makeshift ring. We said the words, voices low, but certain. It wasn’t a chapel. It was better. It was ours.
And when I kissed her again, it was slow. Reverent. My hands, both of them, wounds and all, cradled her face, like she was the most breakable, precious possession I’d ever held. We sank onto the couch, her breath warm against my neck. Her lips traveled my jaw as if she wanted the torture of having to come slowly back to my lips. The warmth of her mouth, touching everywhere but my own, sent a shiver down my spine.
I kissed her temple, lingering. No rush. Then lower, tracing the path of her cheekbone until my lips brushed the corner of her mouth.
Remembering all she’d gone through, I murmured, “Tell me if I go too fast.”
“You won’t,” she whispered, her breath feathering my lips. “Not with me. That’s why I trust and love you, Lach.”
Her confession loosened something in my chest. I explored the curves of her body with care, learning the shape of her through the fabric between us. I kept my movements unhurried, as if every second with her was sacred.
She closed her eyes and leaned into my touch, her body softening, her breath changing—slower, deeper. I brushed my thumb along her jaw, tilting her head so I could kiss her again. Tasted the faint salt of her skin.
When her hands slipped under the hem of my shirt, I felt every point of contact, like it burned into me. She traced the planes of my stomach, old baseball scars, not flinching at a single one.
“I’ve seen these, but I want to remember them in a different way,” she breathed, kissing one.
She was undoing me.
I lowered us onto the couch, my body caging hers without trapping her, supporting my weight, so she could move if she needed ... or say no. My lips followed the curve of her throat, her pulse fluttering against my mouth. Her fingers tightened in my hair, a small sound escaping her—want and relief mingled.
She tilted her head, lips brushing mine for a tease, and I kissed her harder, letting our laughter and soft moans mix together while undressing each other.
We didn’t rush. We explored each other, savoring every brush of skin, every subtle curve, every quiet gasp. And my hands lingered, learning the way of her hips, the curve of her breast. I felt her tension give way to trust, to want, to something raw and alive between us.
By the time I rested my forehead against hers, our breaths mingled, and we both trembled. The world beyond these decrepit walls no longer existed. I held her naked body in my arms, and the silence we shared was broken only by the promise of more heat to come.
“Nice?” I asked.
“Expand your vocab, Lach.” She winked at me, lips parted, and I’d have kissed her again if she weren’t trying to catch up. “I saw heaven between your arms. Now the couch is not rat-infested, Lach. It’s love-infested.”
I chuckled, squeezing her in my arms. “You’re perfect, Natasha MacKenzie. Perfect for me.”
50
SIMONA
Wind knifed across the moors, carrying a dampness and … music.
“You said they’d be asleep, Baby MacKenzie?” I poked Jake’s spine with the muzzle of my Grach as I followed him toward the stone castle. My stomach knotted tighter. Natasha had better be in there. Almost three in the morning, I still had to believe the Scots kept her safe.
He glared back at me. “Do you need a gun? Around my family?”
“Lower your voice.” I poked him with the gun before putting it in my purse. “Allude to our disagreement, I kill someone before you vindicate yourself. Da?”
“Yes.” He gripped the heavy, iron knocker. “Nobody’s gonna hear this.” He dropped his hand. “Give me my phone?”
I complied. In sixty seconds flat, the Brodys let us in, their eyes questioning my appearance with Jake.
Big Brody hugged me. “Glad to see you, lassie.”
Sure.
While escorting us into a seating room, Big Brody apologized for the misunderstanding. “Nan didn’t update me until later.”