Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 154728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Despite that, my limbs tensed, ready to bolt. “I should go.”
Kane quirked a brow. “Babe, I’m far from fuckin’ done with you.” Clearly, he was not bothered by my tone, my change in demeanor. Not threatened by it. He nodded his head to the dishes. “That was just to fuel the tank. You want to go?” I’d opened my mouth to argue, but he spoke first. “Really want to go? Or you think you should? Just like you think you should do the dishes?”
My spine straightened at the way he spoke. Plainly, challenging me. But there was no judgment or malice.
I chewed my lip. An anxious tic from my youth that I hadn’t done in years. He was picking away at me, at the shields I’d thought were iron but he tore down like they were made of paper.
“Yeah,” he nodded, even though I hadn’t actually said anything.
With ease and strength, he tugged at my barstool, turning it to face him. He cupped my face. “Just for tonight, I’m gonna push against all that order inside of here.” He stroked my temple. “Gonna give you a taste of chaos.”
And then he kissed me. With chaos.
And all of my doubts went up in flames.
Kane’s tongue between my legs woke me up.
He didn’t even say good morning.
Just dove. Right in.
“I’ve got to go,” he rasped, mouth still glistening with … me.
I deflated, my limbs boneless as my body twitched with aftershocks.
Of course, he was eager to flee.
I’d literally fucked him on the first … not even date. We shared less than one drink together and one bite of a shitty appetizer and a midnight bowl of pasta.
I’d traded jokes and small talk full of sexual innuendo, got on a bike with him, then let him fuck me on the floor of his entryway.
Then on the floor of his bedroom.
Then in his bed.
Yep.
That sent a message.
One that did not coincide with us sharing breakfast together.
One that did not coincide with anything more than a one-night stand. One of the best nights and mornings of sex I’d had.
Ever.
A frantic sort of panic clutched on to my lungs, making it hard to breathe for a handful of seconds.
I’d never see Kane again.
Yes, I’d only met the man the previous night, and I certainly didn’t believe in love at first sight—I knew I wasn’t in love with him. But I was in …. something with him. I felt changed in a pivotal way. It felt wrong and strange to go back to my life from before without Kane, without him touching me, looking at me.
I shook myself from those thoughts.
I was not being myself.
I did not get wrapped up in men.
I did not let men twist me up and ruin me.
“Yes, so do I. I’ve got to get to the docks.” My voice was cold.
His brow quirked playfully. “You work at the docks too?”
I got up from the bed, wanting to hide my nakedness with a sheet but unwilling to seem self-conscious. Being comfortable in my skin was a power move, so I gritted my teeth and didn’t think about the cellulite on my thighs or the likelihood that Kane bedded women who didn’t have a speck of it. “I need to get the catch of the day so I can plan my menu from there.”
Kane didn’t hide the way he stared at my nakedness. It was clear he was not looking at my cellulite. No, it was with sheer desire that his eyes skimmed my body.
My skin prickled at his hungry gaze.
“Don’t you have people to do that kind of thing?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious as he rested his elbow on the bed and leaned into his hand. “You’re the boss, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I told him, trying to act comfortable that this seemingly benign conversation was happening with both of us naked. “That doesn’t mean anything, though. If anything, I need to work harder than anyone else.”
Kane’s flirty smile faltered, replaced with an expression that was impossibly intense and probing.
Luckily, it lasted only a moment before the smile returned.
“Well, far be it for me to keep you from your fishing.” He held out his hand to help me up.
Again, panic swirled beneath my sternum at the prospect of going about the motions of getting ready to leave. Internally scolding myself, I pushed past it.
By the time I’d used the facilities and the toothbrush I found in the bathroom, Kane had brought up my clothes from last night.
He was wearing underwear. That was it. I restrained my urge to drool at his six-pack, his tattoos, inspect his scars. There was no point in doing that, trying to learn more about a man I would never see again.
Instead, I took my clothes.
He sat on the bed and watched me dress. “What does your normal day look like?”