Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 40951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
She tastes like tea and sugar and something sweet that might be trust. The combination goes straight to my head. My hand slips under the hem of her sweater just far enough to find warm skin at the small of her back. She shivers hard, nails grazing my scalp.
“Sorry,” I murmur, starting to retreat.
“Don’t you dare,” she breathes, pressing herself closer, and whatever restraint I’ve been clinging to rearranges itself into something that looks a lot like we’ll stop if she says stop and not a second before.
I drag my mouth from hers, trail a line of kisses along her jaw, down to the spot just below her ear. Her head tips back on instinct, throat bared, a soft pulse fluttering there. I feel something fierce and primal uncurl in my chest at the sight of it—of her trusting me with that vulnerable line.
“You’re killing me,” she sighs, fingers tightening in my hair.
“Pretty sure it’s mutual,” I say, words muffled against her skin.
She laughs, breathless, and the sound crashes into my ribcage and stays there.
I nip gently at her earlobe, then soothe the spot with my tongue, and she makes a low sound that has my hands tightening on her hips. She starts to rock against me—small, unconscious movements that make my vision flicker at the edges.
I shut my eyes for a second, fighting for control.
Careful. Don’t rush.
“Ivy,” I say again, pulling back just enough to see her face. Her lips are swollen, cheeks flushed, hair a wild halo around her head. She looks wrecked and beautiful and… happy. “We keep going, we’re going to cross the line into something I don’t half-ass.”
Her chest rises and falls, breath catching. “Is that your way of saying you’re not a casual kind of guy?”
“That’s my way of saying…” I swallow, because the words feel big in my mouth. “I don’t want this to be just a snowed-in thing we pretend didn’t happen when you go back to Saint Pierce.”
Her eyes soften in a way that does more damage than any blast ever did. “Me either.”
Something in me that’s been clamped tight for years loosens another notch.
“I’m feeling things I haven’t in a long time,” I admit, because if I’m going to risk this, I’m going to do it honestly. “And I’m not planning on letting you just… disappear down the mountain when the roads open.”
Her fingers cup my face, gentle, like she’s committing the angles to memory. “Good,” she whispers. “Because I was already trying to figure out how I can convince my boss to let me work remotely.”
A laugh punches out of me, surprised and raw. “You’re thinking about logistics in the middle of this?”
“I’m a planner,” she says, unapologetic. “Also, I like you. Like, really like you. It’s annoying.”
“Yeah?” I ask, heartbeat doing something weird and hopeful.
“Yeah,” she says. “So maybe you should kiss me again before I start using words like ‘emotional attachment’ and scare us both.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” I murmur.
I kiss her again.
This time I let myself sink into it. No holding back, no second-guessing. Just the press of her mouth, the slide of her hands, the slow, intoxicating way she responds—matching me, meeting me, trusting me.
Her sweater rides up a little as she shifts, and my fingers find bare skin again, warm and smooth under my calloused palms. She arches into my touch, breath catching, and I take my time, mapping the curve of her waist, the dip of her spine, the little shiver that runs through her when I trace up along her ribs and back down.
The fire pops, sending a shower of sparks up behind the grate. The room feels small and infinite at the same time.
I tug at her sweater, and she helps me pull it over her head. I toss the sweater to the floor and my breath hitches at the sight of her in my arms. “You’re so beautiful, Ivy.”
Her rosy cheeks brighten. “So are you.”
I stand her up, undoing her pants so I can slip them down her legs. It’s reverent how I worship her. “I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.”
She sucks in a breath. “Me either.”
She stands before me in nothing but a white lacy bra and panties. I’m realizing right now that I’m the luckiest bastard on the planet. Seriously.
I drag her closer, letting my lips land on her torso and I run my lips over her soft skin. “I definitely won’t be able to let you go when I’m done with you tonight.” I glance up at her, meeting her eyes.
“I won’t let you.”
I smile against her skin, and dig my fingers into the skin at her hips. I breathe her in. I trail kisses over her belly, and hook my thumbs into the waistband of her panties. I pull them down her legs, and she steps out of them for me.