Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 110113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
We stop at a pair of doors all the way at the end of a long hall. Digging a key card out of his pocket, Sawyer waves it in front of the reader and the lock clicks.
He shoves open the door and holds it for me, nodding. “C’mon in.”
“Thanks.” I walk in and blink, my breath catching as I take in the exquisite—and enormous—hotel suite. “Wow. Wow, Sawyer …”
“Yeah?” I hear him drop the bag and key card on a table behind me.
“Is this—”
“The presidential suite? Yep. They fucked up my reservation, so the front desk upgraded me. Pretty nice, right?”
“Nice? Sawyer, this place is sick.” I stare at the stunning view outside the floor-to-ceiling windows that line two sides of the room.
The state capitol building is lit up in the distance, a stoic contrast to the colorful lights of 6th Street that twinkle in the darkness. A hazy full moon presides over everything, turning the night sky a deep shade of navy.
Sawyer laughs. “Glad you like it. Make yourself at home.”
Inside the suite, there’s a massive dining table surrounded by more chairs than I can count. A lounge area occupies the space to my right, complete with a cushy-looking sectional sofa that is just begging for a good, messy fuck.
But it’s the bed I glimpse through a door to my left that makes my heart beat faster. It’s massive, a low-slung leather behemoth dressed in crisply pressed white linens. Fluffy pillows are neatly lined up against the headboard.
Walking through the suite, I notice the lighting is low. Moody. Even the room scent is sexy—sandalwood, a hint of that leather.
The suite is neat as a pin. Of course room service has tidied the room, but something tells me Sawyer was the one who carefully lined up his toiletries—an electric toothbrush, a razor—on the bathroom vanity I see just off the bedroom.
Really, who is this funny, filthy-mouthed cowboy who apparently always has a Tide pen on him and stays in a hotel like this?
The kind of cowboy I like.
I jump at the sound of a pop behind me. Turning around, I see Sawyer pouring champagne into a pair of disposable coffee cups.
“All I could find,” he explains, looking up.
Our eyes lock. My stomach somersaults for the hundredth time tonight. He’s gorgeous.
Dropping my purse on a nearby side table, I saunter over and take the cup he offers me. “This is perfect. Any fancier and you might scare me off.”
“I’m a lot of things.” He searches my face, his full mouth curling into a smirk. “But fancy ain’t one of ’em. Cheers, Ava.”
The space between us thrums. I’m not sure I’ve ever been this turned on.
“Cheers.” I tap my cup to his. “To getting body-slammed.”
Bringing his cup to his lips, he laughs. “I got other plans for your body.”
Heaviness gathers inside my skin as I sip my champagne. Its dry, sweet flavor bursts on my tongue in a rush of starry delight. “Care to elaborate?”
Reaching out, he curls a finger through my belt loop. “You ride, don’t you?”
I can almost hear the way my blood crackles and pops inside my veins. “What gave me away?”
“These legs.” He gives the loop a tug while sipping his champagne. “That ass. And the way you dance. You’re strong. Quick. Graceful. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were a barrel racer.”
I dig my teeth into my bottom lip. This guy pays attention, and that makes me feel some kind of way.
It makes me feel wildly … adored.
“You’re good, cowboy.”
One side of his mouth kicks up. “And I ain’t even kissed you yet.”
“Let’s get that out of the way, then.” I down the contents of my cup before setting it on a nearby table. “So I can show you exactly how well I ride.”
We both laugh. A wash of warm, liquid light moves through me that makes me feel like I’m glowing from the inside out.
This man really, really digs the Pisces in me.
“What?” I tease, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I wasn’t gonna let you be the only one who drops terrible lines.”
His gaze flicks to my mouth. “Kind of you.”
“A little kindness goes a long way.” I dig my fingers into his hair.
Sawyer’s eyes darken as I trail my fingertips across his scalp. I get the feeling he hasn’t been touched this way in a while. He’s leaning in, practically purring with pleasure when I put a hand on his face and arc my thumb over his thick stubble.
“It does, yeah.” His voice is husky. He stops, lips poised an inch over mine. Less.
My pulse throbs as the realization hits me—he’s waiting for me to make the first move. Waiting for me to give him permission. In my prior life, when I tried so hard to be the proper wife and woman Dan wanted, I would’ve suppressed my desire to take the reins.