Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
I know her. She’ll make it work somehow.
“What do you think?”
She’s watching me. How long has that been going on? I was too concerned with her plans. “I thought you were sleeping.”
“I was.” Pushing herself up on her elbow, she yawns and throws the other arm over her head. She had the forethought to put on a nightshirt and shorts–I have to pry my hungry gaze from her nipples, standing out against thin cotton. “So what do you think? Am I insane? Tell me the truth.”
“I’d always tell you the truth.”
“I know, which can be infuriating sometimes.”
I almost forgot the stupid snack, which I set on her nightstand. Amanda’s ashes used to sit there. She’s come a long way from needing a crutch. “The truth? You’re sure you want to hear it?”
“I’m not so sure anymore.”
I’ve screwed with her long enough. “I think it looks great and would like to know more.”
She narrows her eyes. “For real? You’re not screwing with me?”
“I’m not screwing with you.” I point to the renderings. “Dorm rooms? Is that what you’re going for?”
She sits up, nodding, and there’s excitement in her voice when she speaks. “Yeah, that’s the general idea. I don’t know yet if private bathrooms would be feasible or if there should be big, dorm-style bathrooms. Toilet stalls, shower stalls, that kind of thing.”
What would Mom want? Fuck, where did that come from? The question exploded across my mind before I knew what was happening. “If it’s feasible, private bathrooms are the better idea–in my opinion.”
“You think so?”
“You have to figure some of these women might not have enjoyed privacy in a long time. A feeling of being safe.”
“Of course,” she sighs, nodding slowly. “Plus, if there are kids with them, they’ll need privacy and safety, too. Not showering around strangers.”
“Exactly.”
A soft smile stirs the corners of her mouth. “So you think I’m on the right track, at least? I want this to be somewhere women can go to get their lives together. I want to put money into the community, too. I have so many ideas.”
She’s glowing, and not because of the white light shining from the laptop and highlighting her golden curls and the curve of her cheek. She’s radiant. Full of hopeful energy. Determined.
I have never wanted her more than I do as I brush some of the books aside to make room to sit. “You’re incredible.” The desire to stroke her hair is too strong to fight. I take one of her curls between my fingers and admire its softness before tucking it behind her ear and letting my hand linger against the side of her face. Not good. I shouldn’t.
But then she leans into my touch, and all thoughts of 'what should and shouldn’t' cease to exist.
“I want to do something good.” Her whole wounded heart is in those words. I feel the intensity of her desire. How deeply she wants this.
“You will.” With my hand cupping her jaw, I draw her closer. Her juicy lips refuse to be resisted. I have to taste them.
Her soft sigh the instant before our mouths meet is a lit match thrown on kindling. A fire bursts to life inside me and threatens to devour what’s left of my common sense. This is the last place we should be doing this, but I can’t stop now.
Neither can she. Her hands sink into my hair while her body melts against mine, and I drink in one deep, searching kiss after another. By the time she brushes a hand against my straining dick, I’m barely clinging to my self-control. “Tatum…” It’s a whisper. A groan. A prayer. For strength, for self-control, for her to touch me and take everything else away for just a little while. A prayer for the peace I’ve only ever known while inside her.
She answers by swinging a leg over me and straddling my lap. I’d swear I can feel the heat from her pussy when she grinds against me through our clothes, and I twitch and strain in response. I find her hips with both hands and pull down, demanding more, but it’s like the sensation of her nipples brushing my chest through our shirts. Not enough.
She gasps when my fingers dig into her firm ass cheeks, breaking our kiss and throwing her head back so I can devour her smooth throat, nipping and sucking while her nails scratch my scalp and the back of my neck. I’m breathing hard, but then she is, too, both of us building into a frenzy. There’s no stopping this.
Instead of pushing her off my lap, I lie back and she goes with me. Now, she can plant her palms against the bed and grind hard enough to drive me out of my fuckin mind. Her throaty moans–desperate, feral–leave me dripping and aching and, fuck, I have to be inside her. Now.