Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
“Yay! Me too.” She turns to Ford. “You look different,” she says, tilting her head. “But I can’t quite figure out what it is.”
Ford doesn’t even pause. “I’m happier, Brittany.” Then once more, for good measure, he says, “I’m happier.”
My heart soars. Last week, I’m pretty sure I started letting go of my worries about getting involved with a client and a neighbor. Now, with that lovely word—happier—I can feel myself letting go of the bigger one.
The one that has lived inside me.
Without a second look at his ex, Ford drops a kiss on my cheek and says, “Let’s go, sweetheart.”
I wave goodbye. “Can’t wait to see the chairs made out of carry-ons.”
And soon, we sail off into the night.
The second our dogs are let back into my place, Ford is on me. He’s cupping my cheeks and devouring my mouth. No—he’s claiming me, kissing me so thoroughly, my head spins. Everything’s a beautiful blur. My body’s awash in lust. In happiness. In him.
His tongue tangles with mine, then he nips the corner of my mouth and moves down my throat, murmuring praise. So pretty. So beautiful. Want you so much.
His words hit differently this time.
The need in them.
When he looks up, he grabs my chin. “I had this fantasy of fucking you up against the wall. Of you in some…dress. Of us…just—” His words rasp, like he can barely get them out in the right order. Then he picks me up, tosses me over his shoulder, and carries me to the couch.
It’s not made out of suitcases. But it’s sturdy enough to survive this man manhandling me. When he sets me down, he makes sure I’m straddling his lap and the very hard, very insistent ridge of his erection.
I shudder at the feel of him. Then he’s kissing me again, blazing a trail of open-mouthed caresses down my neck till he reaches the top of the bodice. The whole time he’s inching up my skirt, sliding the material along my legs, then bunching it at my waist.
When my panties are revealed, he lets out a feral groan. “Fuck, baby. You’re too much.”
They’re pale yellow. “Want to get lucky?” I ask playfully.
He doesn’t smile—he just shakes his head, maybe in amazement, and says, “I am lucky. I’m so lucky I met you.”
My heart feels like the sun is shining from inside me. “I feel the same,” I say, my voice wobbly with emotion.
“Yeah?”
“I really do,” I say, my throat tightening as nerves wing through me along with all my deep-seated fears. Fears of being second best. Fears of being left behind. But he’s only given me reason to believe I’m one of his priorities.
And it’s a feeling I relish now.
So much that I say, “I’m on protection, and I’ve been tested. Negative.”
He goes quiet for a moment, his blue eyes flickering with passion and promise. “Me too,” he says, blowing out a weighty breath. “I want to feel you with nothing between us.”
Hastily, I tug at his pants, undo his tie, and unbutton his shirt as he maneuvers off my panties, and in no time his hard, throbbing cock is free and beautifully ready for me.
Just like I’m ready for him.
I sink down on him, my eyes falling closed, my breath stuttering, and my world narrowing to just him and me.
“Skylar,” he groans, my name said like he cherishes me.
And that’s how he fucks me.
With a white-hot need and a deep, tender passion. He holds me tight, guides me up and down, and kisses me fiercely as I ride his cock until we’re both falling apart.
Later, we’re in bed, and he says, “It was good to see Brittany tonight.”
I tense. “Um, why?”
“Because it’s good to know when your past is truly behind you.”
My heart’s beating outside my body. “It is. It really is.”
Then he kisses me like I’m his future.
32
OUCH
FORD
Before I head to the game, I slip over to Skylar’s house. “I’m leaving in fifteen minutes. But I got you this.” I hand her a new jersey—one of mine. “I wanted you to have a second one. You need two.”
The implication had better be clear—you are coming to as many of my games as you can.
“I sure do.” She holds it up against her chest, modeling it with a sexy sway of her hips. The jersey falls to mid-thigh. She’ll swim in my number fourteen.
“I want you to wear mine,” I add.
She shoots me a sly look. “But should I still wear undies? It’s kind of like a dress. You want access?”
I growl. “You’d better wear undies. So I can rip them off you later.”
“Well, if you insist.”
“I do.”
I plant a searing kiss on those sweet, glossy lips. She tastes so damn good. “It’s a good luck kiss,” I say.
She tugs at the tie I’m wearing, wrapping a fist around it and holding me in place. “Then I’d better give you another. You should have double the luck.”