Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 144435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
"I can explain," she says, her expression contrite.
I'm not entirely sure what the fuck she needs to explain, but I play along, crossing my arms and hitting her with a stern glare. "Go ahead."
She pauses dramatically. "It's all Paige and Cleary's faults! They said their husbands were hot, and I said mine was hotter, and then they wanted to argue about it. I couldn't just let them get away with insulting your hotness like that! I mean, look at you!" She flings her hand out in my direction, her eyes going glassy in a way that makes my dick imprint itself against my zipper. "So Paige said there was only one way to settle it. We had to let BookTok decide."
"What the fuck is a BookTok?"
"It's readers on the app!"
"They have a name for them?"
"Will you let me finish?" she growls.
I hold my hands up, trying not to laugh. Once she gets going, there's no stopping her.
"We secretly recorded you guys doing your things to upload the videos for BookTok to judge. You were trying to break Tyr when I recorded you, back when he was still trying to buck you off like you were in a rodeo. Now everyone is losing their minds over the video. Look!" she cries, jabbing a finger at the screen. "One million views!"
Huh.
I grunt. "How many does Camden have?"
"None."
A broad grin spreads across my face. BookTok thinks I'm hotter than my baby brother? Fuck yeah. He's never living this shit down.
"Paige didn't post his video," Cassia says. "Cleary didn't post Ian's either."
I scowl. "I thought they were supposed to participate too?"
"They were." My wife rolls her eyes and then blows a wayward strand of hair out of her face. "But they both chickened out. Only, they forgot to tell me they were going to chicken out. So now you're all over the internet and their husbands aren't." She pouts again. "I had to turn the comments off, Cord. They were not appropriate at all!"
I arch a brow; not sure I even want to know what the hell was in the comments. I'll never tell Cassia because she'd kick my ass if she knew, but I still keep an eye on her social media. There are a lot of assholes and evil motherfuckers out there, and my wife is my world. There's not a chance in hell I'm going to risk one of them getting anywhere near her. So I check in to make sure everyone is treating her the way she deserves to be treated. It's hard to miss some of the dirty things she and her book friends talk about while I'm doing it. They put my ranch hands to shame.
I am curious as a motherfucker about this contest, though. Ian's a damn world-famous tattoo artist. He looks just like the men on the covers of half the dirty books Cassia hordes on her Kindle like she's stockpiling them for the apocalypse. I bet people are sick of seeing his clones. Which means Cam or I could win this thing. And Cam doesn't have Tyr in his back pocket. All he's got is his fancy-ass furniture and a couple horses who behave.
I'm liking my odds.
"You're just going to have to tell Paige and Cleary to suck it up and get their videos up," I say, pulling Cassia up from her chair. "Fair is fair, pretty baby."
She gapes at me.
"I can't win on a technicality."
"You're not mad?"
"About what?" I murmur, sliding her laptop to the side and boosting her up onto her desk to kiss all over her neck. "That you posted me on the internet? Fuck no. I thought you were trying to pick another damn cover model."
"Oh." She giggles. "Seven years and you still hate when I have to pick models."
"I'll still hate it in seventy years, Cassia," I growl, nipping her throat. "I'm the only cowboy you look at. I'm the only cowboy you think about." I cup her breasts, pinching her hard nipples. "I'm the only cowboy who makes this perfect body tingle."
"Cord," she groans. "I have to cook dinner."
"Nu-uh. Not until I have my dessert first. Lay back."
She huffs like she's annoyed, but that doesn't stop her from scrambling to obey. We both know she wants exactly what I'm offering. I know this woman inside and out. The only thing she loves more than me eating my dessert is me fucking her with the remnants of it all over my face.
I kiss her lips, drinking from her sweet mouth until she's mewling beneath me, and then I work my way down her body, yanking her shirt up to lavish attention on her tits. Her body has changed over the years, softened and rounded in ways that make me fucking crazy. Her breasts are fuller, her hips wider. The little stretch marks across her belly are sexy as fuck to me, standing in testament to the strength of this woman and the miracles she's wrought in my life.