Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Karma has humbled me.
“OW.” I freeze, heel kicked forward, arms out like I’m stopping traffic. “Help.”
Hayes reaches me so fast you’d think I’d been sniped. “Where?”
“My entire leg,” I gasp. “From ankle to earlobe.”
His handsome face frowns. “That’s not an anatomical pathway.”
“It is now.”
He bites back a smile and moves in, all competent hands and calm voice as he bends to run his palm over my calf, massaging it gently until I yelp like a baby.
“Breathe. Toe up. Don’t fight it.” He braces me against his chest, one arm around my waist, the other guiding my foot like we’re slow dancing with gravity.
Despite my injury, I want to burrow myself inside of him; run my hands up his stomach, under his compression shirt. Even with a knot in my leg, Hayes is super delicious and I want to touch him.
“It’s—oh shit, it’s worse,” I announce dramatically. “I see a bright light. It’s shaped like a pool float. Tell my mother I love her.”
“Focus.” He straightens my leg, presses his thumb deep into the knotted muscle. I yelp again, then sag, because it’s awful and perfect and he knows exactly what he’s doing.
My mind goes to sex. His body over mine, moving in and out . . .
“Am I dying?”
“You’re dehydrated and stubborn,” he says, amused, reaching for the water bottle and holding it to my lips. “Sip.”
I sip.
He glances at the trail—narrow, with a lot of loose gravel. “You good to walk?”
“Absolutely.” I put weight on my calf, and it protests meanly. “Absolutely not.” Suddenly I am a Victorian heroine. Cue the fainting couch. “Fetch my smelling salts, I feel faint.”
He huffs a laugh, the fond kind that ruins me. “Okay, Duchess.”
Before I can protest, he slides an arm behind my knees, the other under my back, and lifts. Effortless. Like I weigh the same as a stack of towels. My breath catches as my world tilts into his chest—sun-warmed cotton, clean sweat, the steady drum of a heartbeat I absolutely should not be memorizing.
“Hayes,” I squeak, clutching his shoulders. “This is humiliating.”
“This is efficient,” he says, already stepping carefully around the loose gravel. “And a little fun.”
“For you?”
“For me,” he admits, mouth tipping. “You’re a sexy little thing.”
Sexy little thing? Okay. I’ll allow it.
I tuck closer, an arm around his neck, the other smoothing instinctively over the ridge of his collarbone. His head tips down; the look he gives me is soft and fierce and has no business being administered on a public trail.
“Comfortable?” he asks.
“Deeply unwell,” I murmur, nuzzling into the line where his jaw meets his ear. I give that spot a kiss. “But I’ll survive.”
“Careful,” he warns in a gravelly tone. “You’re playing with gravity here.”
“I trust you.” My fingers skim lower, tracing the line of his ribs. “And I need something to occupy myself while I’m recovering.”
He huffs a laugh. “You’re going to make me miss a step, then we’ll both end up on the ground.”
“Tragic.” I kiss his clavicle, above the collar of his shirt; his grip tightens under my thighs.
“Layla.” My name comes out a growl. “Keep that up and I might accidentally drop you.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” He’s so big and strong. “When’s the last time you had a woman slide her hands all over your naked body.”
His brow furrows. “Knock it off.”
“It’s an innocent question. I’m trying to get to know you.”
He cuts me a look that’s half exasperation, half lust. “It’s been a while.”
“How long is ‘a while’?”
“Long enough that I don’t remember.”
My mouth pouts. “That’s so sad.”
He exhales like he’s been holding his breath under water and is just coming up for air. Two more careful steps. Three. I last exactly five before I can’t help myself and smooth my thumb behind his ear.
“Layla.”
I blink, all innocence. Seriously, What Has Come Over Me? Last week, I never would have had the guts or the lady balls to ask a man these questions—not a man I am not in a relationship with or even dating.
“Purely for science, do you make noise when someone’s mouth is sucking your—”
He stops dead, muscles going iron under my legs. “Enough.” His voice is a low, dangerous ribbon of desire. I can see it in his eyes; he’s as excited as I am. “Please. Let me concentrate on getting you down the hill.”
Ugh, fine.
I nod and settle in. He carries me the rest of the way like I’m the only thing on his list. At the wider stretch of trail, he sets me down, hands firmly gripping my hips, eyes searching mine.
“Tonight you can ask me anything, and I’ll answer. Hands and mouth included.”
Hands and mouth included?
Several minutes later, Hayes gets us to the parking lot. It’s mostly empty, his truck sitting at the end of the row in what little shade the lot offers, a cooler of water bottles and snacks waiting in the bed so we can hydrate on our way back to his house.