Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
I cup his cheeks and pull his face to mine, pressing my lips against his, stealing wet kisses as we both fall back onto the bed.
“This feels too good,” he says. His jaw clenches as we shift, the new angle causing pleasure bombs to detonate inside me.
“So good,” I say.
His eyes grow dark and the crease between his eyebrows deepens as he builds his pace. It’s like he’s studying me, watching for micro-reactions he then responds to with changes in speed or pressure or position.
He’s always thinking about me. About us. This man could have anything, anyone he wants, and he’s choosing me. Choosing to kiss me, make me happy, make me come. The thought is intoxicating.
I bend my legs either side of him and then wrap them around his waist. He groans as he continues to push into me.
“I need more of you,” he says, and he lifts one leg higher, pushing deeper, faster, harder. I’m gone, spiraling, another orgasm making my blood spin in my veins. I can’t see or hear or feel anything but him.
“Fuuuck,” he says as he pushes in again, and I feel the deep, steady throb of his climax.
I don’t know if it’s the sound of his heart beating or mine, but for a few seconds or minutes or even hours, that’s all I can hear.
Until finally, he says, “What are you doing to me?”
My entire body is still pulsing, but from somewhere I get the energy to move. We shift. He takes off his condom and I sit astride him.
“I’m greedy for you, Kate. I’m not sure I’ve ever been greedy for anything in my life before.”
My heart inches higher in my chest. I press my hands onto hard abs.
“I’m here,” I say, repeating his words back to him. He closes his eyes in a long, lazy blink.
“Then here is the only place I want to be.”
And just like I’ve been saying for weeks now: everything would be perfect if we could stay exactly here forever.
TWENTY-TWO
Kate
Granny’s going to hear it eventually, and frankly, it won’t be that eventually, since the news will reach her within five minutes of me sitting down with Vincent. Better to tell her myself, rather than have Sandra or Basil break the news.
“Vincent Cove asked me to dinner,” I say as I scroll through my phone, sitting at Granny’s kitchen table.
This time, the click of her needles does falter, but she covers it well and gets back on track. “What did you say?”
“I said Vincent Cove asked me to dinner.” Granny’s hearing is normally sharp as a bat’s.
“I mean what did you say to Vincent,” Granny says.
“Oh, I see. I said yes.” I reply like it’s no big deal. As far as Granny is concerned, I don’t date. She doesn’t need to know about the casual hook-up with the Australian barman who worked behind the bar a couple of summers ago, or the occasional stranger who comes onto me at the pub. They were nothing serious—certainly not worth mentioning to Granny.
Vincent is different. Vincent, she’d hear about.
She stops knitting and puts her needles on the table. “I’m delighted for you.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I assure her.
“It doesn’t have to be,” she replies.
“And it’s not like he’s going to be my direct boss forever.”
“No. And who cares if he is? You only live once, my darling.”
“And it’s not like it’s going to turn into anything serious. Don’t start wedding planning. I’ll probably hate him after spending a nonstop two hours in his company.” That is unlikely to be true. The more I get to know Vincent, the more time I spend with him, the more I like him. Yes, I am attracted to him—the guy is hot, there’s no denying it. But I like his mind, the way his brain works. He’s focused on the bottom line, on profits and his investment. But he’s also a man who stays true to his word and has a sense of responsibility to Crompton and the people here. I can’t help but like him more for seeing that side of him.
“Just enjoy yourself. Are you going into Cambridge?” she asks.
I scoff. “We’re going to the Golden Hare.” That’s what Vincent said, wasn’t it? He knows I don’t want to leave the estate.
Granny visibly deflates.
“What? I know the menu and I’ll have all my nutritional requirements satisfied.”
Granny raises an eyebrow. “Is that what they’re calling it now?”
Did I mishear her? “What did you say?”
“Nothing. But why not venture into Cambridge?”
“Why would we? It’s nearly half an hour to get there. I don’t know the restaurants there and I’m not sure if I’ll like it.”
“It would be a nice change.”
“But it might not be. It might be an awful change.”
“If it is, it will only last two hours.”
“You keep telling me life is short. Why would I waste two hours—no, three hours, when you factor in travel—on the off chance something is nice, when I can get guaranteed nice when I’m at the pub?”