Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
My heart thudded faster. “What are you doing?”
“I’m getting out of these wet clothes.” He said it quickly, like he was angry, but not with me. “I don’t want hypothermia.”
He yanked his jeans off and threw them to the floor, making a sopping noise when they went. Perhaps he’d spoken with urgency because he’d hoped it’d spur me into action, but it had the opposite effect. I went as wooden as a tree.
He wore a pair of gray boxer briefs that hugged him, but everywhere else was muscle and beautiful skin. I averted my gaze to the fireplace. He was so damn hot, if I looked any longer, it would burn my retinas.
But my body was shutting down from the cold, and I wanted to retreat inside myself. To search for any flicker of warmth left there. That was the moment he stepped forward and his fingers found the button at the waistband of my jeans.
The memory of him doing this in the car blasted heat through me, making my legs weak.
“Are you going to do it?” he asked.
I shook my head, flinging water droplets from my hair, shivering too violently to move. “I’m too cold.”
Plus, stripping down to my underwear in front of him had to be the worst idea ever. Or maybe it was the best. It was impossible to tell.
I didn’t get time to consider it. Jason had my pants unbuttoned and unzipped with the same efficiency I’d expected him to be able to load his gun. He dropped to a knee as he tugged the denim down over my hips and the cold air pebbled the skin on my thighs.
Abruptly, he groaned like I was killing him. It was because the last thing he’d probably expected to find was pink lace. He shot back up onto his feet, looking dizzy with lust and the desire not to act on it, pulling him in two different directions.
Frankly, I wasn’t concerned about it. All I wanted was to be warm. He turned to the bed, pulled off the heavy quilt, and wrapped it around his broad shoulders. Then he faced me, held his arms out, and wordlessly asked me to step into his embrace.
Where it could be warm.
But also extremely dangerous.
My only chance of escaping him disappeared when he moved forward and closed his arms around me, wrapping us up in the quilt. His skin was cold against my bare skin. His arms tightened when I let mine slip around his waist.
The fire in the fireplace was finally putting out some heat, but it was no match for the one building between us. I wanted to resist, yet I wanted to give in.
But it was clear he knew what he wanted.
He placed a hand on my cheek, turned my head into his kiss, and we were doomed.
25
JASON
Rain fell in sheets, pounding against the roof in a steady roar. The comforter I’d wrapped around Laurel slipped from my shoulders, falling away faster than my resolve not to kiss her again.
I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop this time.
And I was so fucking tired of fighting it. I claimed her lips with mine, immediately possessing her mouth in a way I hoped no one had kissed her before. My hands were on her hips, then on her back, and then down to squeeze a handful of her ass and pull her deeper into my greedy kiss.
The comforter was in my way, and I was ready to be done with it. The fire had warmed me enough, and I was too focused now to care if I was still cold.
My mouth trailed down the soft skin of her neck, and I bent her over my arm, letting my kiss trace the edge of the damp shirt that clung to her curves. I was ready to be done with that too.
When I tugged the fabric up and off with hurried hands, her arms tangled in the straps momentarily. Like my jeans, I threw her shirt to the floor with force, annoyed it had gotten in my way.
Her haunting eyes were full of hunger, and I was relieved to see everything I was feeling reflected in them.
As soon as the shirt was gone, my hands were back on her, caressing her shoulders, sliding down the front of her chest while my mouth crashed against hers.
The heat of it was intoxicating. Addicting. But she broke the kiss to issue a soft sigh when my fingertips traced the satin-laced edge of her bra.
She was trembling.
Or shivering. I couldn’t tell.
“Are you still cold?” I asked, softly and with concern.
“I don’t know,” she blurted.
A smile threatened to break on my face, but I held it back. Instead, I grabbed the comforter I had dropped to our feet and spread it out by the hearth. I didn’t want to stand anymore. I had plans for her, and they did not involve her being upright.