Total pages in book: 184
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Then, still looking up, “It’s cold out.”
“So?”
He takes another drag. “So we’re lying on the ground.”
“But—”
“While it’s snowing.”
“But—”
“In the middle of the night.”
“I know but—”
“In a fucking park that you wanted to walk to,” he keeps going, smoking. “Instead of staying at the hotel room with a perfectly nice bed we could be sleeping in right now. So yeah, it’s pretty fucking insane.”
I’m done with his complaining—which believe it or not, he has done a lot of ever since I said that we’re going out—so I reach out and put a finger on his smoking lips, causing him to finally dip his chin and glance my way.
“First, this is amazing, no doubt about it. Second, lying in the snow while it’s snowing is the only way to enjoy the snow. Think of it as like tanning, only we’re doing it in winter. Third, we didn’t walk here after all because you wouldn’t let us, remember? You insisted that we take a cab. I mean, that’s not how you have a midnight adventure. Especially when you call yourself colder than winter. And you even brought a coat with you and wouldn’t shut up about a winter weather advisory. So I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He stares at me for a few moments, his mouth all soft and hot under my cold finger. When he opens it to say something, I smush my finger on his lips. “Oh, and fourth, I’m not sleepy at all. I’m weirdly very energetic right now. So tough luck, big guy, you’re going to have to stay here.”
I smile sweetly and remove my finger before rubbing my cheek on his hard and cozy chest and go back to staring at the frosty moon and pretty snowflakes. I even catch a few in the palm of my hands, watching them melt and sighing.
The arm that’s tucked around me moves and goes up. He buries his fingers in my hair and, fisting it, he pulls my head back and then instead of the cold snow, I’m staring at his heated face.
“First, the reason we took a cab was because walking here would’ve taken us more than forty-five minutes and by then no matter how much you love winter, you would’ve frozen to death, putting a tragic end to your midnight adventure. Second, I am colder than winter. The coat’s for your benefit because again no matter how much you love winter, it’ll still give you frostbite. And third, there’s nothing weird about you being energetic. It’s called endorphins. Aka happy hormones. Aka that happens after sex. Biology 101.”
I open my mouth to say something, but like I did before, he stops me. Not with his finger, though, but with his mouth, pressing a kiss before he says, “Oh, and I can leave whenever I want to.”
No, he can’t.
Because I know about the coat.
I was just messing with him. I knew he wore it for me—it’s a long overcoat—and I know that’s the reason I’m wrapped up in it.
So he’s not going anywhere.
Besides, let’s not forget that we’re cuddling.
Yup.
And it was his idea too.
I mean, I did want to use him as a pillow and cuddle with him, ever since I saw his chest revealed in its full glory anyway. I mean, his chest is made to rest my head on.
But he got there first.
As soon as we lay on the ground, he was the one who reached for me and hauled me up against his side and put his large palm on the back of my head and made me do what I already wanted to: rest my head on his chest, tuck it under his jaw, and lie here for an eternity. And then he wrapped me in his coat, keeping me plastered to his side.
Twenty minutes later, he’s still doing that.
I cup his cold, harsh cheek. “No, you can’t.”
“No?”
“Because if you leave, who’s going to keep an eye on me?”
He clenches his jaw in response.
“Or cuddle me to keep me warm.”
“This is not cuddling.”
“This is absolutely cuddling.”
“I don’t cuddle.”
“You cuddle me, though.”
“You—”
“Oh, and if we’re talking about hormones and chemicals and stuff, shouldn’t it be Chemistry 101?”
“I—”
“And doesn’t that mean we have insane chemistry?” I repeat my words from long ago.
His lips twitch, his eyes roving over my features. “I thought the words were In. Sane, not insane. And it also means that I want to sit you down at a desk and make you write over and over, ‘Isadora Agni Holmes should not annoy Stellan Thorne.’”
I smirk and rub my thumb over his jaw that’s stubbled after a long day. “How about you bend me over a desk instead and I write, Stellan Thorne only pretends to hate when Isadora Holmes annoys him. Secretly, he wants to be annoyed all the time.”
And then to annoy him further, I reach up, wanting to place a sweet kiss on his lips. But he stops me a hair’s breadth away from his mouth and growls, “If I bend you over a desk, Dora, you won’t be able to spell your name, let alone write those two sentences over and over.” Then, “Actually, you won’t be able to sit at a desk for at least a week, let alone put pen to paper.”