Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 104305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
I scraped my thumbnail across my forehead. “There’s nothing there.” I was not only trying to convince him, but myself.
“You only refuse to see it.”
“You’re making things up.”
“I’m not.”
I stopped in my tracks and spun on him. “The fuck you aren’t.”
He was only inches from me. Close enough to lift my hand and touch him. But that would be stupid. It would be like swiping my hand through an open flame. It would hurt and I’d regret the burn afterward.
“When’s the last time you’ve been touched? Allowed anyone to touch you or hug you? Or simply comfort you?”
His whispered questions made my chest tighten, made my heart thump heavily. “I don’t need any of that.”
“Yes, you do. We all do.”
“Maybe you need that, I do not.”
“Why are you so goddamn stubborn?”
Because I have to be. I have no choice.
I’d been barely hanging by a thread for the past two years, it wouldn’t take much to snap it. If it broke, I’d never be able to repair it.
Rett was a threat to that unraveling thread.
Even though he would normally be my type, I kept trying to convince myself that I no longer had a type. That I wasn’t interested in any man. Gay, bi or…
The man standing too close.
“You need to go,” rumbled out of me. An order. A warning. A last chance.
“There’s nothing wrong with what you’re experiencing when we touch, Chase. Not a damn thing. You’re allowed to hurt but you’re also allowed to feel. Let yourself have that. Let yourself heal. It doesn’t mean you’ll forget him. You never will. He’s still in your heart and always will be.”
“You don’t…” I shook my head. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
“You’re right, you don’t. But despite you denying it, there is something between us.”
“You’re imagining things.”
His head jerked to the side and his jaw tightened. “You’re wrong and I’m going to prove it to you.” He closed the gap between us.
“I don’t need proof, I need you to leave—”
Before I realized what was happening and could fend him off, Rett’s hand wrapped around the back of my head and he yanked me forward, slamming our mouths together.
Our lips colliding was an explosion, stunning me for a second. Almost the same reaction I had the first time I kissed Thomas, but…
Different.
Not better, not worse…
Unexpected.
His lips moved over mine and his tongue slid over the seam of my mouth, demanding entry.
My heart began to pound. All the tiny hairs on the back of my neck now stood at attention.
And my blood was pooling somewhere it shouldn’t.
For a moment I pushed all thoughts out of my head because they were conflicted.
Push him away. Pull him closer.
Pin my mouth shut. Allow him inside.
My cock had responded instantly, but my brain was sluggish. Confused.
I shouldn’t want this, but I also wanted more.
I should be pissed at the gall of the man kissing me.
I needed to stop him.
My hands went up to his chest, but instead of pushing him, my fingers curled into his shirt.
All it took was my mouth to open just the slightest and his tongue was pushing its way inside. Sweeping and tasting every corner. Tangling with mine.
For a moment I forgot who I was, where I was and who I was kissing.
I missed this. The touch. The rush of adrenaline. The intimacy.
Both perfect and imperfect at the same time.
Wanted and feared.
His fingers dug into my scalp, the other hand squeezed the side of my waist.
His whole body vibrated against me.
Or was that me? Was I the one shaking? The one about to unravel?
Then his erection pressed to mine.
His erection pressed to…
His erection pressed…
To mine…
Fuck!
The fog cleared from my brain and I landed hard right back in the center of my cabin with a man I didn’t want to be attracted to. A man I shouldn’t be kissing. And who shouldn’t be kissing me.
What was he doing?
What was I doing?
This was wrong. So damn wrong.
I didn’t want any of this.
I didn’t want Rett.
Damn it, I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
I wouldn’t.
I gripped his shirt even tighter, swung him around, yanked my mouth free and put all my weight behind pushing him away.
With a sharp intake of breath, he lost his balance and stumbled back.
As if in slow motion, I watched his foot get caught against one of the chairs, making him fall.
I jumped forward and reached out to grab his wildly flailing arm before he twisted, trying to save himself from falling backwards.
He failed.
The thump of his head against the corner of the solid farmhouse table made me cringe and bark out a, “Fuck!”
Then his knees gave out and he crumpled to the ground.
I stared at the man on the floor.
His eyes were closed.
Jesus fucking Christ! I quickly dropped to my knees next to him. “Rett!” I grabbed his face and turned it to me.