Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
I love it when he collapses on top of me, breathing hard, giving me his weight, if only for a minute before he rolls to the side, bringing me with him. We’re still linked, and I can feel the metal drag along my flesh, and it makes me tighten around him again.
“God damn,” he mutters, tracing my lips with his fingertip. “Are you okay?”
“Am I okay?” I look up at the ceiling, taking stock. “No. I wouldn’t use that word at all. Not okay. I’m…well-fucked. I’m…humming. I’m really happy.”
His smile is bright and proud, and he kisses my nose and then my lips. “I’m going to clean you up before we make an even bigger mess.”
He pulls out, making me whimper as my nerve endings wake up once more, and with a smirk, he walks out of the room, giving me a stellar view of his impressive ass.
When he returns moments later, he has a warm cloth with him, and he gently wipes me off, then tosses the cloth into my hamper, and we snuggle down under the covers.
“Questions,” I begin, and he chuckles.
“Hit me with them. I’ll answer anything, you know that.”
I curl into him, my head on the crook of his shoulder, and wrap my arm around his middle, and he presses his lips to my forehead. His fingers drag up and down my spine, and it makes me want to purr. Lying next to him, naked, feels luxurious, and I take a second to just soak it in.
“You’re not asking,” he murmurs before pressing his lips to my forehead and leaving them there.
“There’s no rush.” I nuzzle his chest. I know that I’m not typically super affectionate, but I can’t seem to keep my hands and lips off this man. It’s…comforting, being here in his arms. “You know I’m going to ask about the piercings.”
“I figured.” His fingertips drag up and down my spine again and then into my hair, and I push into his fingers, as if I were a feline.
“And the tattoos. You’ve done a lot to your body since I last saw you naked, Holden.”
“Hmm,” he agrees. “How deep are we getting here, Rosie?”
“You were just so deep inside of me that you practically pierced a lung, so I’d say we can get pretty personal.”
That makes him laugh, and then he rolls me to my side and kisses me softly and slowly.
“You’re funny,” he murmurs softly, nuzzling my nose. God, cuddly Holden is awesome. “You’ve always been funny.”
I love lying here like this, with just the soft glow of the bedside light on, under the covers with this man. It feels so sweet and intimate, and I hope we do it often.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” I cup his face, and he turns to press a kiss to my palm.
“It started with the wild rose tat,” he begins as he takes my hand in his and links our fingers, then holds them close between us. I can’t get enough of how his inked skin looks against my untouched flesh.
“When did you do that?”
“About a month after I ended things with you.”
My eyes widen in surprise. “Holy shit, Holden.”
“I was missing you, and it hurt. So, I decided to get something that hurt physically so I could try to mask the pain in my heart. And that’s how it went for eight long years.”
I swallow hard, trying to will away the tears.
“Every time the missing you got to be too much, I’d get another one. And another, until the sleeve was finished.”
I’m tracing the ink with my free hand, listening intently. He did all of this because he missed me?
“Why the piercings, Holden?”
My gaze finds his again, and he looks so unbearably sad that it takes my breath away.
“The first one was when you graduated college, and I couldn’t celebrate with you. During the month we were together, I’d decided that when you graduated, I’d take you wherever you wanted to go. Europe, or somewhere tropical. I didn’t care. It was about you and what you wanted.”
“We were together before my sophomore year, Holden.”
His eyes just hold mine, and my heart aches a little more.
“And the second?” I ask when he doesn’t answer.
“When you bought the coffee shop. I was so fucking proud of you, Rosie. So proud. I wanted to throw you a big party and make a fuss, and I had no right to do that. It wasn’t my place. And that fucking killed me.”
“You brought me flowers,” I whisper, unable to look him in the eyes. “Beautiful flowers, and I called you an asshole.”
“Hey.” His fingers are under my chin, and he tips my face up to look at him. “Baby, don’t do that to yourself.”
“I was so mean,” I whisper. “And you were so nice to me. But I was confused, and I didn’t trust it. And even though it happened years before, I still wanted to punish you for being such a jerk.”