Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 129951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Battle replied, his voice slightly thick, but he was hanging in there.
I shifted my attention to Tempie to see she was swirling her olives in her martini.
And she was smiling.
Broadly.
The man practically ran me off my heels when we were trying to escape Chelsea.
But post-dinner, after we’d been apart for four days, and I wasn’t teetering in heels, did he drag me to my room?
No.
We strolled there like we had all the time in the world.
We were headed to my room because, during pudding, I’d leaned his way and whispered, “Your room or mine?”
To which he’d found my ear and whispered back, “Considering I intend to fuck you in every room in this house, we might as well start now. Yours.”
After that, I made a mental note to initiate no more, even minimally sexy talk in front of his sisters, because my body reacted so strongly to his words.
Fortunately, when we made my door, Battle stopped messing around.
He did this in order to start messing around.
As such, he used his hand in mine to whirl me whereupon I slammed against his chest, he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me deeply as he backed into my room, taking me with him.
I was all in to win (in other words, all over him), when he sat on my bed, also taking me with him, only immediately to stand, break the kiss and turn his head to look down at my bed.
In more than a bit of a haze, I looked too.
There was a book there.
The cover was beautifully imagined swirls and flourishes in which were hidden dragons and ridiculously handsome men with wings on their backs, all of this in greens, blues, purples and shades of gray.
And in the middle of all of this, in silver foil, there was the title Into the Gilt Frame.
Under it, it said, Written and Illustrated By Prudence Talyn.
I gasped and my hands flew to my mouth.
From behind them, I asked, “She’s been published?”
“No,” Battle replied. “Chassie took one of her books and had it printed and bound as a Christmas present a couple of years ago.” He reached and nabbed a sheet of thick, soft gray stationery with an artsy, blocky monogram of PJT (Prudence’s middle name was Joanna) at the top that was lying beside the book. “There’s a note. Addressed to you.”
Excited, I took it from him.
And read it aloud.
“Vivi. You liked Battie’s portrait so I thought maybe you might want to see this. It’s an early thing, not very good. If you don’t like it, that’s okay. But I thought you might want to see it. Love, Prue.”
With big, happy eyes, I looked up Battle.
He smiled indulgently and stated, “I suppose we can have sex in the morning.”
Gah!
He was so great.
But…
Was he crazy?
“Are you crazy?” I asked.
He didn’t answer.
I took the note and the book and put them on my nightstand.
After which, I promptly returned to Battle.
And jumped him.
The room was dark.
Battle was asleep, head on my pillow, the one I was leaning up against. His arm was resting snug around my hips.
I had a little reading light shaped like a sloth that I was using to read Prue’s extraordinary book.
Battle was right.
The story had depth, also emotion, heat, humor.
And the illustrations were crazy-amazing.
However, I’d had two orgasms, so as much as I wanted to keep reading, I was losing it.
I didn’t want to miss anything.
I’d have to return to the book tomorrow.
I switched off the light and set it and the book aside.
I slouched down and turned into Battle’s embrace.
“It’s good, isn’t it?” he murmured sleepily.
“No, it’s exceptional.”
His arm got tighter around me.
I curled mine around him.
“’Night, love,” he said.
“’Night, baby,” I replied.
And we went to sleep.
CHAPTER 22
THE SPIES
“Up here, Vivienne,” Battle ordered hoarsely. “Now.”
His cock still deep in my mouth, I looked up his defined abs, over his perfectly-sprinkled-with-dark-hair pecs, his strong throat to his flushed face and dilated eyes and kept sucking him off.
I got in two more strokes with my mouth before his hands were under my arms, and he was hauling me up his body while he sat up.
Then he was grinding me down on his cock while he groaned and I gasped.
He fisted a hand in my hair, yanking it back sexy-rough, so my spine arched.
His arm tight around my hips held me full of him, unable to move, as he kept me positioned for him and tortured my nipples with his lips and tongue.
Such a damned tease.
“God, honey,” I begged.
He tipped my head forward, kissed me and used both hands clenching my ass to control my rhythm as I rode him.
Eventually, I had his head in my hands, one of his skated over my hip so he could roll my clit with a strong finger, we were gaze to gaze, lips to lips, Battle purring, me whimpering.