Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 76592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“Don’t hold back this time.”
Fuck. Those words snap the last thread of restraint in me.
My chest heaves. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“Yes, I do.” Her voice doesn’t waver. “Do you think I was just a bystander in the barn? I want you, Henry. All of you. The man who makes me feel like the ground is falling away but I’m still safe.”
Safe. The one thing I haven’t been since…
I should walk away.
Instead, I surge forward, close my hands around her face, and crash my mouth onto hers.
It’s raw. Desperate. Her lips part on a gasp, and I take what I need, our tongues tangling, teeth clashing. She tastes like everything I ever wanted. Everything I’ll never get enough of.
She pulls at my shirt, unbuttoning it and sliding it over my shoulders. I’m already reaching for her hips, hauling her against me. We hit the cushions in a tangle of limbs, her legs straddling mine.
Heat pulses through every inch of me. She rocks against me, and I groan.
“Clothes,” she rasps out. “Too many clothes, Henry.”
I pull her shirt over her head, watch her gorgeous breasts fall against her chest.
She scrapes her nails against my shoulders. “Henry,” she breathes.
I unbutton her jeans, throw them on the floor, and slide my fingers underneath her panties.
“Fuck.” She’s wet. So damned wet. I tear the panties from her and flip her beneath me, pressing her into the couch. She arches up. I get rid of my sandals and jeans and just stare at her beautiful body.
She’s here. She’s mine.
For once, I let myself stop fighting it.
She’s warm beneath me, her thighs trembling as she hooks them around my waist.
I look down at her, at the blond hair fanned across the cushions, the lips swollen from my kisses, the eyes fiery amber with want.
“Say it,” I growl, my forehead resting against hers.
She digs her fingers into my biceps. “What?”
“That you want this.” My voice scrapes like gravel. “That you want me.”
Her eyes flare. “You think I’d be here if I didn’t?”
I crush my mouth to hers again before she can say anything else. She moans, a low, hungry sound that lights me up from the inside.
Her skin is warm from the fire. I find her hips, slide upward, memorize the dip of her waist, the swell of her breasts.
I kiss down her neck, her collarbone, tasting salt and sweet.
She shudders. “Henry…”
I press my hips against hers, and she tilts up, meeting me, every motion frantic and sure. I’m already trembling with the effort to keep control. She reaches between us, guides me in with a soft, startled sound.
And then—finally—there’s no space between us at all.
We move together like the storm last night, fast and hard. She clings to me, her breath hot against my ear. I grip her thigh, pull it higher so I can go deeper, until she cries out. My vision blurs as pleasure overtakes me.
It’s not pretty. It’s not gentle. It’s a rush, a tearing down of every wall I’ve tried to build between us.
When she comes, she bites my shoulder. I groan and lose myself in her.
And then—
Silence. Only the hiss of the fire, the rain a steady patter.
I collapse beside her, my chest heaving.
She lies on her back, one arm over her eyes, breathing hard. Her lips are parted, her skin still flushed. She looks wrecked.
So beautifully wrecked.
Neither of us speaks. The firelight flickers across the cabin walls, throwing gold against old wood.
I sit up, scrubbing at my hair, suddenly aware of how small the cabin feels. My voice comes out rough. “This…wasn’t planned.”
Her arm falls from her eyes. She turns her head and looks at me. “What does that even mean?”
I drag a hand over my neck. “I didn’t bring you here to…to do this. Angie—”
Her body goes still. “Angie what?”
I force myself to meet her eyes. “The cabin. It was her idea. Not mine.”
Her lips part, but no sound comes out. Until—
“We’ve been through this, Henry. Angie orchestrated it. We were both pawns in her conniving little game. But I hope you’re not sorry she did it, because I’m not.” She sits up, clutching the blanket around her.
I reach for her hand, but she pulls it back and tucks it against her stomach.
“Tabitha—”
“Stop.” Her voice is quiet, but it slices through me. “Just stop.”
I swallow hard. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Manipulate me?” she says. “Because that’s what this feels like.”
I flinch. “I wasn’t trying to manipulate you.”
Her eyes glint in the firelight. “Then what were you trying to do?”
I stare at her, at the blanket wrapped tight around her body, at the pulse fluttering at her throat. I open my mouth, but no words come.
She shakes her head slowly, like she can’t decide if she’s angry or gutted. “I told you last night I didn’t want safe. I wanted you.” Her voice wavers.