Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Though he’s still shirtless, it looks like he’s showered since his workout selfie, because his dark hair is slightly damp, and he’s wearing low-slung pajama pants with . . .
“Are those hot dogs wearing party hats?” I wonder out loud as I point to the cartoons all over his legs. I read the multicolored words splashed all over the pants, and my wonder turns to hilarity.
WELCOME TO THE SAUSAGE FEST!
I giggle at the silliness, but Jesse’s in no laughing mood. His eyes are dark as midnight as he smirks at me in that sexy, bedroom way that drives me crazy. “Hey, Birdie,” he grumbles. “Fuck, I missed you.”
That’s all it takes. I’m a puddle, standing on his front porch with big news I wanted to share about the oddities in the divorce decree. But now I can barely remember my name.
This is what I want. A man who wants me, not for the boxes I check, but because I’m a blend of just-right and all-wrong. A man who doesn’t want me to be less and thinks my “too much” is the perfect amount. I thought that wasn’t Jesse, but it turns out I was so wrong. He’s exactly that man. The one who challenges me and isn’t afraid to call me on my bullshit, but also sees that sometimes I need a safe space to crack the strong, independent shell I wear as armor and be taken care of.
Stepping inside, I curl right into his chest, my head fitting there perfectly. Smiling against his skin, I sigh, “I missed you too.”
He places a soft kiss to the top of my head as his arms wrap around me, and after a moment of connection where we end up swaying together, I feel like I can relax enough to breathe again. He makes the day melt away until the only thing that matters is him.
No, us.
“Get in here and tell me about this meeting with The Asshole,” Jesse says as he pulls me in and takes my purse. He sounds more annoyed than jealous, even rolling his eyes sardonically. “And I’ll tell you about my meeting with Chrissy.”
“Later,” I argue, shaking my head as I take his hand and lead him toward the kitchen. “First, I was promised an up-close-and-personal look at your dining room table. I hope you’re hungry.”
I throw a sexy smile over my shoulder as I raise a questioning brow. As if the growing “hot dog” in Jesse’s pajama pants isn’t answer enough. “Fucking starving for you. Always.”
He has me naked and spread-eagle on the table in seconds, sitting in one of the chairs like I’m his gourmet dinner, though I don’t know that I’ve ever seen him attack a meal with as much gusto as he does me. Not even Tayvious’s infamous chili cheeseburger, which would be an understandable and allowable exception for anyone who’s ever had one.
I lose track of how many times his devilish tongue makes me come, demanding one more from me with my clit between his teeth and my ass sitting in a puddle of my own making as he holds me in place with a tight arm pressing down over my hips. I don’t think I can do it again, but Jesse knows my body almost better than I know it myself, and I shatter violently, bucking and writhing with a scream choked in my throat and my nails digging into his shoulders.
“You’re so fucking beautiful right now,” he murmurs once I regain consciousness. His head is resting on my inner thigh, leaving beard burn I know I’ll feel tomorrow, and I can sense his eyes looking up my body as his fingers trace pathways over my other thigh.
I can’t help but giggle a little bit. I don’t feel beautiful. I feel like an absolute mess—hair in knots at the back of my head, eye makeup running, mouth dry but skin soaked, and I can’t catch my breath. I lick my lips and look down at Jesse. “Thank you.”
Chapter 24
JESSE
“Doo-doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo-doo,” I sing, doing my best to imitate the Mission: Impossible theme song, dramatically making my way down the hallway. I press my back to the wall, looking behind Wren and me for any tails we might’ve caught along the way. “Coast is clear, let’s go.”
I peel myself off the wall with a dangerous grin and grab Wren’s hand to encourage her toward our destination—the property tax office.
Wren’s heels click-clack noisily, and if we were actually on a top-secret mission, they’d garner way too much attention, and her laughter would surely get us busted. “Sshhh,” I hiss, glaring at her offending heels. “Before I banish those to the bedroom!”
“You’re the one who’ll lead people to ask questions we don’t want to answer,” she teases back. Her smile says she’s having fun being silly, though.