Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
He releases me with a sexy grin and disappears into the bathroom. I stare through the doorway, getting a brief glimpse of his naked body as he steps into the shower.
Need consumes me—memories of the times we’ve been together in the shower flash through my mind in quick succession. That first night when we were in our relationship that wasn’t really a relationship and a few days ago.
I want to tear off my clothes and walk in there with him. Feel him hold me to him, feel him inside me, stroking me.
My indecision holds me still, and by the time I take one step forward, the shower is off and Tyler is toweling off. My eyes drop his to ass.
Damn.
He has a really nice butt.
“What is it with you and my bum?”
I lift my eyes to his. He’s looking at me over his shoulder, his lips quirking upward. I shrug and turn away.
“Come on. I want to go out.”
I lie back on the sand and sigh. It’s hot against my skin as I grab a handful and let the fine grains run through my fingers, only to fall to the very place where I picked them up. Tyler sits next to me and crosses his legs.
He gazes down at me and puts a fry between my lips. I eat it to pacify him, although I’m still full from the slice of toast earlier. He offers me another and I shake my head. He shoves it into his mouth with way too much vigor—but I’ll forgive him since the owners of the restaurant were British.
So, despite his earlier statement, he can get “proper fish and chips” here. This has delighted him to no end, and despite my teasing, I love seeing the satisfied glint in his eye.
“How did your shoot go earlier?”
“Fine. For once,” he answers, waving some fish in front of my face.
“Ugh, no.” I purse my lips. “Get it away. That smell!”
Tyler laughs and eats it. “I don’t think you understand how good this is,” he says around the fish.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, you savage!” I thump his thigh.
Another laugh. “That thing about Brits being polite? It’s bullshit.”
“What, so you don’t say sorry ten million times to someone?”
“Do I look like a groveler?”
“No, but you look like someone who pisses people off a lot, so it’s a viable question.”
He flings a fry at my face and I laugh.
“Only you. But I think that’s a boyfriend requirement. Right?”
I raise my eyebrow. “Yes, because there’s a book for that shit. Didn’t you know? I saw a Barnes and Noble down the road—why don’t you ask them if they have a copy?”
Another fry comes my way. This time, I grab it from the sand and throw it back. He catches it in his mouth before he realizes that it’s covered in sand. He splutters, putting his box of fish and chips down. I laugh at the way he scrapes his tongue with his fingers.
He launches himself at me and I roll away.
“Liv! You bitch!”
“Living up to my pet name!” I giggle, kicking my legs when he jumps on top of me and grabs my wrists.
He pins them above my head and drops his face. His eyes search mine. His lips, quirked to the side, show his dimple. I yearn to reach up and dip my finger in that soft dent in his cheek, to feel the smoothness of his skin beneath my skin.
I yearn to feel his skin against mine, at my own will, more than anything.
Like he can sense how I feel, he moves his thumbs. They rub across my palms, loosening his grip on me ever so slightly. Still, he gazes down at me.
And there’s wonder in his eyes. A glint that wraps around me with warmth and safety. One that gives me everything I never imagined myself having. Happiness. Stability. Love.
I bend my fingers so the tips of my nails brush his hands. He slowly lowers his mouth to mine , every inch a torturous bit of space I’m desperate to fill.
Because I crave him. Even when he’s straddling me, his hands securing mine, I crave him. Even when his skin is searing into mine, I crave his touch, because I know nothing else.
When he touches me, nothing else exists.
“I love you,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you so bloody much.”
I wrestle my hands from his grip and slide them into his hair. “I love you, too.” I reach up and brush my lips across his. “And as much as I hate to ruin the moment, I really, really have to pee.”
He stops and his eyes meet mine for a brief second. “For fuck sake, Liv.” He drops off me and sighs dramatically. “How can you romance a woman when all she wants to do is pee?”