Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
My eyes drift closed, and I squeeze her tight to me, our hearts beating together in a crazy tempo. I couldn’t agree more.
I didn’t start living until she came running up that damn hill the day of her grandpa’s funeral.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
Fable
I feel like an exposed live wire.
Electrified, vulnerable, and powerful.
For so long, I thought I could never experience real intimacy, truly get off, but that’s not right. I’m still shaking, my body flushed from head to toe as I stretch along my sheets like a fat cat. Between my legs, I ache in all the right ways. My breasts are tender, my mouth swollen, and my brain is still fuzzy with lust. I’m a thousand percent sure I came more in three hours with Jett than I have in years. My eyes burn with unshed tears, and my nose tingles as I revel in how good my body feels.
For so long, I thought I was broken.
I thought I would never experience what is written in books and portrayed in movies.
I convinced myself it wasn’t in the cards for me to have that ultimate connection with someone who could make me feel so alive.
But I can have it.
I’m not broken. There is nothing wrong with my body; it was just waiting for Jett Cook.
When he steps to the side of the bed, I look up at him in awe. He’s naked, his body on full display for my hungry eyes. He has tattoos along his thighs and legs that match his chest, and between his legs, his cock hangs proud and thick. My mouth waters at the sight, and when I meet his gaze, it’s playful.
I run my hand up the back of his thigh as he teases, “See something you like?”
I flash him a sneaky grin as I take the water bottle he holds out for me. “Sure do.”
He sits down, and I curve my body around him after taking a long pull of the water. He cups my neck, his other hand stealing the water from me and taking his own sip. I see such peace on his sweet face as he whispers, “So do I.”
I get lost in his reverent gaze. He made me feel so much. My whole body caught fire for him and only him. I have been with eight men in my thirty-eight years, and none of them brought me to life the way he has. His touch was so gentle but needy, his eyes never leaving mine for long. And how he checked in on me…? Kept me in the moment…? I have never experienced something like that, and I want more. I want him. My eyes flood with tears as the emotions hit me from all angles. For so long, I thought I was the problem. I never allowed myself to live in the moment because I thought I couldn’t.
When my tears spill over, Jett’s face scrunches up before he brushes my tears away. “Princess, what’s going on? Are you sore? Do you need ibuprofen?” I probably do after the anaconda he’s packing, but that’s not what has me crying. His eyes search mine as I hiccup a sob. “I’ve got my umbrella, Fable. Unload on me.”
Another sob falls from my lips as I lean into his hand. He bends down, pressing his head to mine, and he holds me as my body shakes with sobs. My mind is firing off like mad, going through each of my past relationships and hookups. How they never took the time or effort that Jett has. How when I couldn’t get off or enjoy it as they plowed into me, they said it was my fault. I went twenty years believing I was the problem, and I’m not.
At least, not in his eyes.
Through my tears, I meet his gaze and whisper, “Thank you.”
His brows pull together, his lips turning down as he strokes my cheek. “For what?”
My lip trembles, and I take a deep breath through my nose. As I let it out, he waits patiently, still stroking his thumb along my cheek. My voice is small, full of shame, as I tell him, “For showing me that I can enjoy sex.”
I can tell he tries to hide the shock that comes over his face, but I know this man. His eyes widen just a fraction, his lips parting ever so slightly, and his thumb shakes against my cheek but continues to stroke me. He doesn’t know what to say, so I save him by continuing. “I have gone the last twenty years thinking sex wasn’t for me. I’d hear how great it is, watch porn, and wonder why I couldn’t get into it like the women always did. I’d read these books full of pure, raw attraction between two people. Read about their need and inability to keep their hands off each other and wonder why I never felt that for anyone.”