Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“What are you doing?”
“Carrying you to the truck.”
When I get to the door, she pulls it open, and I set her in the seat. “Oh, heated seats. Remote start for the win. I didn’t even see you hit the button.”
“You were too engrossed in the game.”
“She always wins,” she grumbles good-naturedly.
“Buckle up, gorgeous.” I hand over her purse, kiss her soft lips, and shut the door, jogging around to the driver’s side. Pajamas do zilch to ward off the chill of the night air. Sure, they’re warm and cozy in the house, but they have nothing on the cold Tennessee weather.
The drive is short but filled with my wife’s chatter about how excited she is that Emerson and Roman are having a little girl. “I’m so happy for them,” she says from her seat beside me. “They fought so hard to be together, and now they’re starting their own family. I feel like Em is living one of our romance novels.”
“I always thought Forrest would be the first one of us to get married and start a family.”
“Right? I can see that too. I knew Em was into Rome, so I paid attention, and it was easy to see she wasn’t alone. I knew it would all work out for them. I hoped it would, anyway, but this baby girl, she’s a plot twist I didn’t see coming, but they’re both so happy.”
I park the truck and turn off the engine before turning to face her. “Do you want kids right away?” It’s something we’ve touched on, but it’s been more of a casual conversation. She wants to be a mom. She’s already told me that.
“Am I that obvious?” She laughs. “Please don’t think I’m going to trick you into a pregnancy. I promise that won’t happen. But yeah, Em and I always talked about our kids growing up together, and she’s gotten a head start on me. She’s been my best friend since we were in kindergarten. It would be nice for our kids to be close as well.”
I want to tell her that we can start tonight. We really need to talk about this, about us, and what we both want. I need to give it some more time, though. I need her to fall for me. Really fall for me so that she wants to be mine forever.
“Stay put,” I tell her, reaching for my door and climbing out of the truck. I rush to her side, and she’s already got her door open. I lift her into my arms, and her giggle makes me smile.
“You know, you’re going to spoil me so much, it’s going to be hard for my next husband to fill your shoes.”
My gut twists. The thought of someone else having these moments with her sets a fire roaring through my veins. I don’t know what this feeling is. Is this love? Is it infatuation? Whatever it is, I know that if she walks away, she’ll leave me broken and scarred, and I’ll never be the same.
I put her on her feet when we reach the front door. Once it’s unlocked, I usher her inside. I don’t bother turning on the lights; instead, I lock up behind us and lead her through the dark house to our bedroom.
“The fun thing about a pajama party is that we’re already ready for bed,” she says as we enter our bedroom. I will never again think of this room or this house as just mine. It’s ours.
“Hmm,” I say, pulling her into my arms and kissing her neck. “I still think we should get undressed.”
She tilts her head to the side, and I take full advantage as I trace the slender length of her neck with my tongue. “I-I think I agree. I mean, we are overdressed,” she replies. Her voice is breathy and filled with need. “I might need some help.”
“What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t help my wife with her every need? Do you have any other needs you need assistance with tonight, wife?”
“I have an itch.”
I smile against her soft skin at the base of her neck. “Tell me where, gorgeous.”
“Everywhere. Too many clothes,” she mutters.
Her hands move between us, and in seconds, she has her pajama top off and somewhere on the floor.
“Here?” I ask, cupping her breasts through her bra. Reaching behind her, I work the clasp of her bra. I take my time dropping one strap and then the other from her shoulder before removing it from her body.
“Legend.”
“Tell me.”
“Your mouth.”
“You want me to suck on these tits?” I test the weight of her breasts in the palms of my hands.
“Please.”
“Since you asked so nicely.” Bending, I guide a hard nipple into my mouth and suck gently. She moans—a sound that is delivered from deep in the back of her throat. It urges me on, knowing that I’m giving her pleasure. I nip and suck and lick, soothing the ache with my tongue.