Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Holy hell, I don’t want to think about it anymore.
Because if I’m thinking, that means I won’t do what I’m doing right now.
I won’t be laying my fingers on Grant’s face, my fingers weaving through the thick, grey-shot bristle of his bearish brown beard.
Pulling him closer, even as his eyes widen.
I definitely won’t be kissing him.
Kissing. Him.
I don’t know what comes over me.
It’s too instant, too impulsive, too reckless.
Too impossible to be denied.
And now that I’ve started I can’t stop, and I can taste years of pent-up emotion in the salt between our lips as I crush my mouth to his and beg.
Don’t hurt me right now, Grant. I can’t stand another ounce of pain and disappointment.
Just give.
Give me the fire in that growl, the nip of your teeth, the sweet, sweet rush that makes me tingle.
I’m actually shaking for my longest obsession.
No surprise, the man is a human earthquake when his lips attack mine.
Or maybe it’s just the vibration, the shock and awe steaming out of him, tangled up in this sudden hunger I can feel.
Grant goes still for just a second.
The shock radiates through both of us in hot waves so intense they leave me dizzy.
I take a deep breath and wait for it, fully expecting the stab of hurt where he sternly pushes me away and reminds me I’ll always be the kid sister.
Nothing but Butterfly.
Not anyone he could ever see as romantic or sexy or remotely desirable.
...only he doesn’t.
Instead, he wraps his huge arm tight around my waist, possessively jerking me forward, almost off the chair.
My stomach leaps and twists.
Instead of tearing his mouth off mine, he goes all in.
Grant Faircross ravages me with the sudden intensity of a kiss that crashes over me like lightning splitting the night.
Heat blooms under my skin like coffee grounds searing under a hot pour.
His mouth is so firm, so delicious, his teeth taunting and his beard scraping.
The rush of his breaths makes me unhinged as he fits our lips together until they’re locked and sliding.
I’m completely captive and I love it.
I don’t want to be free.
Not when his tongue teases like he’s desperate for another sip of me.
Not when he’s taking me over, dissolving my heartache in a universe where there’s nothing but this punishing, powerful kiss.
Not when his hand splays against the small of my back, so large and thick I shiver with the sheer masculine force of it.
Holy wow.
I may have been the one who started it, but baby, he finishes.
I’m barely exaggerating when I say I almost finish halfway through it, moaning into his mouth.
My cheeks flush so hot I’m boneless.
He steals my control and breaks me down until I’m a gasping, melting mess, tugging at his beard to pull him in closer, deeper, opening my mouth in invitation.
Own me.
A terrible plea, but I’m so past caring.
When one of your deepest, darkest desires is suddenly coming true, it’s hard to process anything.
I’ve secretly dreamed about this ever since I was a little girl.
I just never knew it could burn this good.
I didn’t think it was possible to dissolve into Grant like he’s this bottomless well of heat and I’m sinking deeper, even as his tongue steals inside me and stirs me up in ways that make me forget how to breathe.
I’m hyperaware of my own body and nothing else. I feel how my toes curl like they never have, kissing anyone else.
I sense every steaming inch of his body.
How close he is, the way his chest heaves with every rasping breath, his scent, the rock-hard body as I release his beard and stroke his arms, his chest.
Every savage inch of him underneath that thin grey t-shirt. I—
“Uh-ohhhh!” a little voice croons from behind us. “Uncle Grant’s gonna be in so much trou-ou-ou-ouble.”
Oh, no.
Oh, shit.
We both snap back so sharply I hurt my neck.
We stare at each other for two stunned seconds—what were we just doing?—before he stands abruptly.
And I do too, turning to face little Nell, who suddenly has the power of judge, jury, and executioner.
I. Um. I have no earthly idea how to explain what she just saw us doing.
Grant glowers at her with a thunderous scowl.
“You didn’t see that, kiddo.”
“But...” Nell blinks up at him with a stunned innocence that can only be part devil. “What about the lady, Uncle Grant? The one you were kissing? It’s her, isn’t it?”
A strangled sound tears from Grant’s throat.
“Forget the lady. Do not talk about the lady. You’ve already embarrassed me a thousand times over about the lady.”
The lady? I can’t help a little smile, even if I want to curl up and die from embarrassment right now.
“What about the lady?” I ask, clearing my throat.
“Are you her? The special lady Uncle Grant talks about,” Nell says solemnly. “The lady’s why he’s never had a girlfriend. He said he wanted to be with a real special lady but she went away, so now he’s all by himself.” She turns her wide, mischievous eyes on Grant. “Isn’t she gonna be mad that you’re kissing Miss Philia?”