Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 196(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 196(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
"Hattie." I curve my hand around the side of her face, tipping her head back until her gaze tangles with mine. "You're perfect. Anyone who disagrees is a fucking idiot."
Her cheeks turn pink, her lips parting slightly.
I try like hell to hold it together. Really, I do. But that blush is right beneath my fingertips. I can feel the heat of it against my skin.
I groan softly, bending to brush my mouth across hers in a soft kiss.
I'm not sure if I'm more shocked when her tongue touches my bottom lip or if she is.
She gasps slightly, her body shuddering against mine. "I…I…"
"You're making it real hard to be good, Hattie baby," I groan, resting my forehead against hers. "You can't tease a man like that."
"I didn't mean to," she whispers, her voice shaking.
"I know." It's the only reason I don't have her plastered to the wall right now, grinding my dick against her hot little center until she gushes all over me. That's what I want to do. I need to know what she feels like coming apart, what she sounds like, and how hard she likes it. But she didn't even mean to kiss me. We aren't there yet, and I'm not going to rush it, not if the cost is everything.
Be soft, I remind myself before brushing my lips across hers again. I pull back slowly, loving the dazed look in her eyes. I love the way she looks at me even more.
"You kissed me," she says, pressing her fingertips to her lips.
"Yeah." I lock our fingers together and then reach for her front door, pulling it closed.
She doesn't say anything as I lead her out to the truck. She doesn't even say anything when I help lift her inside. Her door is an inch from shutting when she finally speaks.
"I think I liked it, Sidney," she whispers.
I groan, my heart in my throat.
"Soft," I mutter to myself once the door clicks. "Be soft."
I don't have the first fucking clue how.
"You really want to eat here?" Hattie asks, eyeing me sideways when I pull up outside the restaurant half an hour later. It's swanky, with valets rushing to park the line of overly expensive cars at the door.
"Why not?"
"It's fancy."
I smile at her tone, like the thought of a fancy restaurant is giving her hives. I'm not entirely surprised, though. Most women would kill to be seen at a place like this. I think Hattie would kill not to be seen here. She doesn't want fame, fortune, or notoriety. I think she just wants to be left the fuck alone.
Unfortunately, that's not in the cards tonight. I wasn't lying when I said we were laying the groundwork. I don't want her mother to have any reason to doubt that we're actually together. Hell will freeze over before I allow the woman to try to force some prick onto Hattie in my place.
I'll have us plastered all over the internet before we fly out to Aspen, just to ensure she knows Hattie is mine.
"That's the point," I remind her. "If we want to be seen, this is the place to do it."
"I have a better idea."
I glance over at her.
"Do you trust me?"
With that look on her face? Absolutely not. But I'll go along for whatever ride she's about to take me on. Fuck it.
"Of course."
"Then hit the gas, Cranky Bear. We're out of here."
I shake my head and then follow instructions, letting her guide me down one side road and then another until we pull up outside of a fast-food restaurant.
"Really, butterfly?" I glance over at her. "I offer you expensive steak, and you decline in favor of tacos and a slushie?"
"Trust me, Sidney," she says, her tone all pert and adorable.
I grunt, pulling into a spot in the crowded lot.
"Wait for me," I murmur when she reaches for her door handle.
She glances over at me and then nods, placing her hands in her lap.
I hop out, circling around to help her from the truck.
"You know, I wouldn't need help if this thing had steps," she says when I lift her out with my hands around her waist.
"Never needed them before now. No one else ever rides in my truck."
"Really?" She gapes at me. "No one?"
"No one."
"Not even your sister?"
"Especially not my sister," I chuckle. "Last time I drove with her in the car, we damn near died because she stressed me the fuck out."
"Sidney Hawkes," she says, grinning at me, "are you a control freak?"
"Hell, probably." I shrug, not denying it, because yeah, maybe I am. I like calling the shots and deciding what happens. I don't have the fucking patience to wait for someone else to make up their mind.
Her soft laugh is half-giggle, half-snort, one-hundred percent addictive.
"I'll order steps for the truck," I murmur, linking our fingers together.