Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Instead, I man the fuck up and mentally tell my dick to get itself under control. Leaning into her, I press a soft kiss on her mouth. “I cannot wait to unwrap my present,” I promise, loving the slight shiver that takes hold of her body. “But first… dinner. You ready to go?”
“I’m coming again,” Regan moans as her fingernails dig into my shoulders.
Those are the best fucking words in the world. It’s number three for her tonight.
I am not going to last much longer. I’m on the edge as it is. We are face to face, pelvis to pelvis, torso to torso. My hips drive into her in long, luxurious thrusts. I have never fucked—made love—this slowly and deliberately before. It’s been the best thing I’ve ever felt. I’ve never been more connected to another human being in my life.
Regan’s fingers twine within my hair, and she puts her lips near my ear. “I want you to come, Dax. Inside me.”
She’s never urged me along before, and I find myself helpless to ignore her request. I drive in one more time, rest my cheek against hers, and unload a monstrous orgasm inside of her with a long groan of relief.
“Yes, baby,” she murmurs, reveling in my pleasure.
When I come down from my high, Regan has already drifted off into a semi-sleep. I roll to the side, my spent cock slipping out of her, then gather her closely to my body.
“Sleepy,” she murmurs, then lets out a huff of air against my chest that tells me she’s fallen straight to sleep.
This is a good thing.
The way I’m feeling right now—the overwhelming strength of the emotions I have coursing through me right in this moment—I was probably going to say something to her that I’m not quite sure I’m ready to admit.
That is, I am fairly sure I have fallen helplessly in love with my best friend’s little sister. It sounds overly clichéd, yet incredibly right. I can only conclude that I have loved her in some form or fashion her entire life, and that has led to the development of a different—deeper—type of love. I don’t want Regan to be my wife in name only. I don’t want her to be with me for my insurance benefits. I want her to be by my side for the rest of my life. I want to have children with her. I want to fuck her morning, noon, and night—in a perfect world, of course.
I simply want Regan in every conceivable way a man could want a woman… and I want her to want me in return.
Which is why it’s good she fell asleep. I’m fairly confident in my feelings for her, but I honestly have no clue how she feels about me. I know there has to be some level of distrust given that first time we were intimate together. When I’d gotten scared, gotten even more stupid, and then called the relationship over before it ever got started.
Yes, I know Regan has to doubt me in more ways than one.
Which means I’m just going to have to work harder to get her to trust me—to believe I’m going to always do right by her.
And along the way, if I can get her to admit she loves me in return, things will be just fine.
CHAPTER 27
Regan
My fingers trail along the line of dresses hanging from the metal rack. Spring is just around the corner, so they are all in pastel colors. Willow is a few paces ahead of me, eyeballing blouses that are on sale.
I approach her, then start flipping through the rack. “I’m really glad you came back to visit us before you head off to Kosovo.”
She shoots me a glance before holding up an olive-colored shirt for inspection. “Me too. I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine,” I drawl, picking up a rust-colored T-shirt with golden bumblebees embroidered into it. Too cutesy for me, so I put it back. “And please find a different color. You wear too much khaki, brown, and olive to begin with.”
Willow re-racks the T-shirt with a tiny shrug of indifference before pinning me with a direct glare. “You’re fine, huh? Then why have you been coughing all morning?”
We start meandering along the department store’s aisles, lazily looking at items we have no intention of buying. Neither one of us have bought a thing all morning. We are just enjoying being out and chatting.
“I just have a cold,” I explain. “Your brother gave it to me.”
Willow slips her arm through mine, then gives me a little squeeze. “That’s what you get for sucking face.”
My head snaps toward her, and she grins.
I’ve been sucking more than that, but I will keep that to myself. I return her smile but ruin it with a short coughing fit. It’s pretty deep and hacking. We halt our progress until I can clear my throat, but I’m left panting as I try to get air in my lungs.