Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 99(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 66(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 99(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 66(@300wpm)
I bury my face in his chest, inhaling his warm scent of cedar and clean sweat, and whisper against his heated skin, "You stole mine, too."
"These crimes calls for life sentences, so I guess we'll have to serve them out together." His lips curl into that devastating smirk that makes my insides melt as he drags me closer, his calloused fingers splaying possessively across the small of my back.
"Sounds like a plan to me," I murmur, my eyelashes fluttering against his collarbone.
CHAPTER EIGHT
JACK
I wake up smothered in the scent of vanilla with the faintest trace of lavender. Poppy is sprawled across my chest. I don’t even try to move at first. I just lie there, breathing her in, remembering every second of last night.
Holy hell.
I’m used to waking up alone. Or with a farting French Bulldog snoring in my armpit. But I can honestly say having her curvy body pressed tight against mine is my favorite way to wake up. My cock stirs instantly, but I ignore the fucker.
I have no clue how I got this fucking lucky, but I’m not about to complain about my good fortune.
I slide one hand up her back, tracing circles along her silky skin. She mumbles my name into my chest, her lips scrunching against my skin, and my heart skips a beat. Oh, man. I am so whipped.
I decide to let her sleep and try to move without waking her, but she’s latched on with both arms and one leg thrown over mine like she’s anchoring me down.
I can’t fucking resist. I duck my head and brush my mouth over her temple, then her cheek, then down to the edge of her jaw. She doesn’t wake, just burrows closer. I keep at it, gentle but insistent, and after a minute she stirs, lashes fluttering.
“Don’t wanna move,” she grumbles into my chest.
“You don’t have to,” I tell her, voice rough. “You aren’t going anywhere.”
She shifts, peeking one eye open. She stares at me for a long, silent second, then blinks. Her tongue darts out, sweeping her lips, and she looks so dazed it’s almost comical.
“Is this real?” she mutters, squinting.
I palm her cheek, thumb brushing the ridge of her cheekbone. “Real as it gets, kitten.”
“Thank God.” She’s got the sexiest fucking smile I’ve ever seen.
I lean in and catch her lips with mine, slow and sweet at first, just because I can. Her lashes flutter and she melts into the kiss, her little fingers sliding up into my hair and tugging gently. My cock wakes up, all the way this time.
Fucking hell. She owns me, heart and soul.
She pulls back just a little and blinks up at me, her curls spilling everywhere and her cheeks flushed. “I need a shower and then something to eat before we have another round of dessert.”
I run my palm along her thigh, loving the way she shivers. “Whatever you need.” I brush a stray curl off her forehead and stand to lift her into my arms.
I turn the shower all the way to hot, and the steam fills the bathroom.
I step into the glass enclosure with her curvy body in my arms. I want her again, but I can feel how raw and spent she is, so I keep it slow, just mouths and hands and the steady beat of her heart against mine.
I set her on her feet and reach for the bottle of body wash. She shivers when I soap her up, and makes a sound when my hands wander, but when I go for her breasts, she laughs and tries to wriggle away. “Breakfast first. Then dessert.”
“Anything for you,” I murmur, kissing the tip of her nose.
After we finish our shower, we towel off and get dressed. Poppy pulls on her black dress from last night, the fabric still slightly wrinkled from where it had been tossed carelessly onto my bedroom floor. Water droplets cling to her neck where she missed drying off, catching the morning light filtering through the bathroom window. She smooths her hands over the dress, trying to make herself presentable. "Before we do anything, I need to go home, change clothes, and feed Moonpie.”
I want to haul her right back into bed, but I can see how serious she is, so I just nod and tuck a finger under her chin. "Whatever you want, kitten. I'll walk you home and meet Moonpie while you get ready." Her cheeks pink up, and she looks so damn adorable, I can't help but lean in for one more kiss. Her mouth is my new addiction.
When she finally pulls away, she’s breathless and blushing, smoothing her hands over her dress. "I look like I’ve been steamrolled," she mutters, staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.
I wrap my arms around her from behind and bury my nose in her wild curls. "You look perfect to me." I mean it. I want her just like this: messy, flushed, fresh from my bed.