Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
“No, it was a vacation home. Living permanently on an island like this is not convenient.”
I wanted to argue that I would be perfectly happy with the seclusion.
We reached the double doors at the entrance to the house, and Garrett opened the left one, then stood back for me to enter. The complete splendor of the foyer had me turning in a circle slowly, not wanting to miss one small detail.
“This is …” I breathed, not sure I had words for it. “Unbelievable.” That was the only way to describe it.
“It has the tropical vibe,” Garrett replied.
My eyes swung back to his. He wasn’t looking at the house, but instead, he was watching me.
“Tropical vibe? That’s all you have to say?”
His mouth quirked at the corners. “What would you have me say, Fawn?”
I threw my hands up and let out a small laugh. “I don’t know. Fabulous, glorious, incredible. I think all those would work.”
Garrett chuckled as he closed the space between us until he towered over me. I stared up at him, feeling anxious, off-centered, dazed. He confused me and sent thrills through me, all at the same time.
His hand brushed my hair back over my shoulder, and then he slid it over my neck, much like he’d done in the Winchester Parlor. It was in a position to choke me, yet he never tightened it enough to actually cause any real fear. Those gray eyes almost blue right now seemed to penetrate right through all the warnings in my head about him and grab hold of me.
I swallowed hard, and his thumb brushed against where my throat had given me away.
“Let’s go see the rest of the house,” he said, finally dropping his hand from me and stepping back.
I watched him as he walked toward the wide, curved staircase and then followed him, hoping my knees weren’t weak from whatever it was he’d just done to me. No man had ever made me react like that. Not once. Not even when having sex. Yet he had the power to make my body weak from a simple brush of his thumb against my neck and those piercing eyes. I might be in trouble, and I wasn’t sure I cared.
It took walking through two rooms before I trusted my own voice. The master bedroom was so spectacular that I had to say something. I walked past Garrett and over to the large windows overlooking one of the beautiful beachfronts.
“Oh my God, to wake up to that view,” I marveled.
I couldn’t even imagine what that would feel like. Sure, once, we had parked the camper at a riverside campground, and that was a nice view, but this was something on another level.
I opened my mouth to gush about the flower gardens when Garrett’s body came up behind me. My gaze lifted from the ground below to the window and our reflection. Garrett placed a hand on my hip, and with his other, he took my hair and moved it away from that side of my neck. I watched helplessly as he lowered his head and brushed his lips over my ear, then the tender skin below it before moving to my bare shoulder. Needing some form of support, I placed my hands on the window as my breathing quickened.
“Your skin is like silk,” he said as he trailed his soft kisses up to my jawline. “And you smell sweet and delicate, like jasmine with a hint of vanilla.”
A warm rush filtered through my body as I clung to the flat windowpane. The hand he had on my hip slid around until his palm covered my bare stomach. I was struggling to breathe. My legs felt weak.
“You didn’t wear a bra,” he said against my neck. “I’ve watched your full tits bounce all damn morning. Those pierced nipples taunting me.” He pressed against me from behind, and the hard ridge of his erection settled right above my butt. “You’ve got me so fucking hard that I can’t concentrate.”
His teeth bit down on my earlobe, and I gasped. Then, the wet warmth of his tongue flicked it, making me tremble.
“Tell me to touch you, pretty baby,” he coaxed.
If I did, then what happened next? Was it done? He would be over this attraction to me, and I’d most likely be ruined for all other men. But if I didn’t and I missed this—whatever it was he was doing to me—wouldn’t I always regret it? Not having the experience. Sex had always been enjoyable, but this was something I hadn’t known existed. My body was reacting to him in ways that made me think he alone knew how to please me. Didn’t everyone deserve to know what that felt like? Even if the repercussions were painful.
“If I tell you”—my voice was just above a whisper—“what happens then?”