Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Roman’s a bad boy built like his jacked-up Ford with a heart that’s been tethered to one hot filly since he first learned to walk. With a face every cowgirl in Montana wants to ride, no one would guess Roman’s been holding back his first time for his one and only.
Only, Roman wants to shake the tragedy of his past and prove to Emily’s father he’s the man she needs before he takes her to the altar and pops that cherry good and proper.
But there’s someone lurking in the background of this happily ever after, and he’s ready to ruin it all.
Author’s Note: The Worth the Wait collection is all virgins, love at first sight, and shameless indulgent fantasy. These are the second-generation children of the couples in books one and two. You get a hot breeding obsessed cowboy and a brazen cowgirl who just wants to ride her man good and proper. If you want to disappear into a low plot, hot sm u tty wonderland with a happily ever after, no cheating, and an obsessed alpha who will conquer his past for his girl? Step inside. We’ve got the goods
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
Emily
“I'm 18. Totally legal. No more fear of committing a felony with an underage gal.” I wink at Roman, who I can tell from the knot in his forehead is ready to pop an aneurysm. “I’m serving this up on a plate for you. How can you possibly say no?”
I reach over as he pulls the truck off the main street into the parking lot, and run my hand down the exquisite hardness of his chest.
A chest I've known and watched grow from the little boy who became part of my Aunt Leah and Uncle Allister’s family when he was just three years old to the man he definitely is now.
We've been in this truck for two and a half hours, running down from our combined family's ranch compound in middle Montana to the college town on the border of Wyoming where my cousins, Roman's brother and sister, go to school.
Roman was adopted, so he’s not blood-related to any of us, but still, in our hearts, we’re family in every way that’s important.
My pussy has been throbbing the whole drive.
I have dreamed of climbing him like a tree for so long, I can’t remember who I was before this constant, unrelenting ache started inside of me.
He’s patient, if not infuriating, and as sweet as he is with me, there’s a seething bad boy just under the surface, ready to pop out and go fist to cuffs, probably more than he should.
There’s also a sad cowboy origin story behind that jaw-dropping chest. And those dark chocolate eyes. But someday, I hope he finally realizes it doesn’t matter where you start in life. It’s where you end up.
“I think you love this truck more than you love me,” I tease as he finds a spot under a huge shady tree and puts it in park. “You let me sit out in the sun. What if my paint starts to crack?” I nibble the end of my thumb while tugging the collar of my shirt to the side, exposing my chest and the indent of my cleavage.
“You want me to blow up my truck to show my devotion?” His thick, masculine voice makes frustrating things happen down below my belly button.
I bare my teeth in a playful growl. “I want to say yes, but I know you’d do it, then I’d feel twenty Sundays of bad about being a brat. And then we wouldn’t have a truck, and you’re one of two people I trust to haul Ruby around to my competitions.”
Ruby Tuesday is my mare, and we are sitting first in the regional 1D standings. Minnie Mae is my trainer and the only other person I’ll allow to haul Ruby. And Roman actually feels the same way about his champion quarter horse, Cavalier.
We’ve just parked outside the building where Roman’s adopted brother and sister have an off-campus condo. My twin cousins, Casey and Carrie, are already at college because they’re bona fide geniuses, but the four of us have been sharing secrets and making mischief as far back as our memories go.
We are each other’s ride or die.
‘Hunnerd percent.
“I’m not blowing up my truck.” He extends his arm and grabs me by the back of my hair, pulls my head forward, and plants a warm but powerful kiss on my forehead.
“I just want to know what it feels like to have that monster you've got down there inside me.” I pout, and Roman lets out a low growl as I give him my flutteriest lashes. “Pretty please? I dream about it even. Every night. I want all that bad boy baby batter fillin’ me up good n’ proper.”
I flutter my lashes some more, and he swallows, and that movement of his Adam's apple in his throat does things to me down low.
“Soon, baby.” He releases my hair as the truck’s diesel engine settles into a low idling rumble.
I’ve dreamed of being pregnant with my sort-of-cousin’s baby so long it’s shameful. I think I wanted to be the mother of his babies before I even knew how babies were made.
But along with that, I also have this thing… I want my dad’s approval of the man I’ll marry. It’s important to me to know that we have his blessing.
It’s all wrapped up with hormones and horniness, but deep down, if I ever saw disappointment in my father’s eyes, it would kill me.
Roman knows it, and he’s been living with my dual personalities, one of which would jump him in an instant, while the other would die inside knowing she disappointed her daddy.
Well, her first daddy, I should say.
“Saint Roman,” I tease on a dramatic exhale. “Your balls must be the color of blueberries.”
His hand darts out, fingers clamping at my windpipe, and suddenly, breathing is impossible. There’s a second of fear, but gosh, how I love it when he gets bossy and rough.