Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“Come here.” I open my arms, and she walks into them without question. “This is one of those times I’m going to need you to use your words, Ramsey.”
She tilts her head back to look at me. “I have been.”
I smile and lift an arm from around her waist to smooth her hair back out of her eyes. “I know you have, but I can feel the nervous energy rolling off you in waves. It’s just me. There is nothing to be nervous about.”
“You’re wrong,” she counters.
“Explain that. Are you worried about staying here with me?”
“No. I’m not worried about staying with you.” She pauses, and I know she’s trying to find her voice to tell me what’s bothering her. “I am worried about staying.”
“You’re confusing me, sweetheart.”
“I’ve never spent the night with anyone.”
“You don’t have to sleep in my bed with me. I have two spare rooms that you can pick from, or you can take my bed, and I’ll sleep in the spare room. Whatever you need to be comfortable.” I mean it. I want her to feel comfortable and safe here. What I don’t tell her is no way in hell am I sleeping knowing she’s just down the hall, but she’s still here, and that’s worth a night of no sleep. It’s worth a lifetime of no sleep, and I refuse to think about what that means.
“What do you want, Deacon?” she asks.
“This isn’t about what I want. This is about what makes you feel the most comfortable.”
“No. I know that.” She’s quick to assure me. “I know I’m safe with you. What I mean is, I’m nervous because I don’t know what you want.”
I feel as though we’re talking in riddles, but I understand why. She’s nervous. “I’m going to tell you, but only because I think your fear is getting the best of you. I need you to know that where you sleep tonight is your choice, regardless of what I want. The choice is yours, and I will gladly accept your decision. I’m just happy you’re here.” My lips find their way to her temple.
“The suspense is killing me.” She chuckles nervously.
I guide her to the kitchen island and lift her like I’ve done countless times before. I like being able to move in close and look at her without bending my neck. Stepping between her thighs, I wrap my arms around her. “I want you. I want you in my bed and in my arms. That’s how I want to fall asleep, and that’s how I want to wake up.” My palms are sweaty as I wait for her reply. She makes me feel like a damn teenager.
“But just to sleep?” Her cheeks go pink, the adorable shade that causes my cock to harden.
With my arms around her back, I pull her to the edge of the counter. My cock is nestled against her pussy. Sure, there are layers of clothes between us, but I know from the way her eyes widen that she can feel what she does to me.
“I feel like this is a trick question.” I chuckle.
“Stop.” She swats at my chest playfully. “I’m being serious.”
“I told you that I want you. But you know as well as I do that you hold all the cards here, Rams. I can’t give you what you want unless you tell me what that is.”
“What if once I tell you, you don’t want to give it to me? I mean, give me what I want.”
I know what she wants, at least I’m pretty sure I know. But there is the off chance I could be wrong, and that’s why I’m going to need her to spell it out for me. There is zero room for miscommunication when it comes to sex.
“Trust me, sweetheart. There is nothing you could ask of me that I would say no to.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Try me.”
She hesitates. “What if I told you that I wanted you to touch me?”
Fuck yes. “I am touching you.” I hug her a little tighter to prove my point.
“Other places.”
Fuck. She’s killing me.
“Where do you want me to touch you, Ramsey?”
“Everywhere,” she confesses in a rush, burying her face in my neck.
Everywhere.
Every-fucking-where.
My hand easily finds its way up the back of her shirt. My fingers caress her soft skin as I trace her spine. “Here?” A shiver races through her at the contact, and my cock twitches behind my zipper.
“You’ve already touched me there,” she whispers huskily.
She’s right. I have touched her there. It’s been over a month since we’ve been dating, six weeks since the day I first laid eyes on her, and I’ve kissed the breath from her lungs more times than I can count. I’ve also let my hands roam up the back of her shirt like I am now. Over her belly, up her sides. Anywhere I can touch her without taking it there, I’ve done.