Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“I enjoy the kissing.” Far more than I ever thought I would. It’s the way it makes my whole body come alive. Is that what people experience when they take drugs? I could see why that would be addictive.
Is Paxton like a drug to me? Is he giving me little tastes of him and his life to get me hooked on him? If that is his plan, it’s working. What I don’t know is if that’s bad. This is supposed to be about convenience, and this feeling is anything but convenient at the moment.
“You sound really surprised by that, but I’m not.” Bonte slides a silver clip into my hair, holding the curls back from my face. It matches the metal on the button of the dress. Then she rights the choker I have on too.
“I was.” Hell, I was more than shocked. Bonte snorts a laugh.
“It takes the right one to come along. I mean I didn’t think I’d be into a man chasing me through the woods before pinning me down to the ground and having his way with me.”
“He chased you through the woods?” Did I hear her correctly?
“I’ve said too much.” Bonte’s cheeks start to flush.
“Why did he chase you through the woods?” This surprises me. Bonte is scared of the dark, or used to be.
I walk over and sit down next to Mac, who is now lying down on the couch, her legs over the arm on one side, swinging back and forth. They did stop swinging momentarily at Bonte’s admission.
“I don’t know. Kinks?”
“Kinks.” I don’t want to think of my cousin Eros in such a way, but when I picture Paxton chasing me, one of those thrills rushes through me, my heartbeat accelerating. I shift in my seat.
“With the right person, a lot of things can be different,” Mac adds, filling in a bit of the blank I was having. “It’s safe.”
“Is it, though? I’m not sure how safe Paxton is.”
“That man isn’t going to harm a hair on your head.” Bonte sits down on the edge of the coffee table.
“She means on the inside. You know, those feelings.” Those feelings are the reason I’m sitting here right now.
“Ahh.” Bonte nods her head. “I think you should explore it. I mean, you’re marrying him, and besides, we can kill him if need be.” She says this with a smile, letting me know it’s a joke, but it doesn’t have to be a joke.
“Don’t be giving her ideas.” Mac sits up.
“I don’t think we need to give her that idea. It’s always floating around in her head.” I don’t want to kill him. I hadn’t even wanted to strike him today. I hesitated, and before I could decide, he’d asked me if I was going to hit him. He was going to let me. What’s the fun in that?
A knock on the door has a rush of panic hitting me out of nowhere. I don’t panic. I didn’t think I was capable of expressing it. “You got this,” Mac says, putting her hand over mine and giving a squeeze. Bonte is almost to the door. “That rush is good.”
“How so?”
“Because it means you care about him and what he’s going to think when he sees you.” When Mac lays it out for me, I understand, and she’s right. I do care what he thinks.
When Bonte opens the door, I stand. Paxton looks right over the top of Bonte at me. A slow, charming smile takes over his face. “Fuck, you are breathtakingly beautiful.” Bonte steps out of his way.
“Really?” I can’t help but feel these little flutters inside my belly. Usually, I’d chalk it up to me being hungry, but I know damn well that’s not the case. It’s the way he’s looking at me that has this energy coursing through me.
“Are you kidding me?” A low chuckle leaves him, and I enjoy the sound. He comes to stand in front of me. The expression on his face is adoration. I have seen it from my own father when he is often talking to me. I grew up watching my dad look at my mom that way as well. Like she was the moon, the stars, and everything in between.
“She does not kid,” Mac deadpans.
“She does have jokes. Naomi just isn’t trying to be amusing when she makes them.” Bonte is quick to come to my defense. I am ignoring their shenanigans, as my father calls them.
“You are far too handsome.” I reach up and touch his pure black bowtie. He is always so put together, reminding me more of Wall Street. Paxton is different with how he holds himself and appears different from his father.
“You think?” He gives me a lopsided smile that is very disarming and runs his fingers through his dirty blond hair.