Mine to Take Read Online Free Page A

words, he is expecting sex .
    The way I’m feeling around him, that won’t be a problem.
    My face burning, I follow him outside, into the crisp spring morning. The sun hasn’t risen yet, but the eastern sky is glowing a neon tangerine orange color. The air smells cold, like Ohio winter air. The ground is crunchy, the scrubby grass frozen, as we make our way to the big outbuilding next to the house. “This is my workshop.” He rolls the big door open just wide enough for us to pass through and waves for me to enter.
    I step inside. It’s dark.
    Until he flips on the lights. Then it’s blindingly bright.
    I see machines. Tools. A snowmobile. A four-wheeled motorcycle-like vehicle. Probably the stuff of most English men’s fantasies. I pretend to be impressed.
    He leads me to a pile of wood, sitting on a workbench. “I started to make something for you. But…it isn’t finished yet.”
    I run my hand over a buttery-smooth plank. The wood was beautiful, though I have no idea what kind it is. It isn’t pine. I know pine. Or oak. My father worked with oak a lot.
    “It’s rosewood. I ordered it special,” he tells me. “It’s to be a dressing table.”
    A dressing table. He is making me a dressing table. Where I can sit to do my hair and makeup. I’ve never had a dressing table. Never thought I would have one. And this sweet man is building me one. With his own hands.
    Never, in my whole life, have I received such an extravagant gift. And it isn’t even a holiday.
    My parents gave us small presents twice a year, at Christmas and our birthdays, with an emphasis on small . But here is this man, who I barely know, making a dressing table. With his own two hands. Something most Amish girls have no use for. He's making it for me.
    I blink. Good grief. I’m not getting all teary again, am I?
    Must be from the stress of the traveling and moving.
    “Is something wrong?” Jace asks, catching wind of my emotional reaction, despite my effort to hide it.
    “No. It’s just…so generous. Thank you.”
    “It would have been finished if I had… never mind.” He shakes his head. “I’ll work every night between today and our wedding day. I’ll have it finished by the time you’re officially my wife.”
    That vow deserves a hug.
    Growing up Amish, I’m not accustomed to physical affection. My parents showed my twelve siblings and me very little. And, although it’s clear they must have been physically affectionate with each other in order to have produced thirteen children, my parents showed no affection outside of their bedroom.
    Maybe that’s why some odd current of energy buzzes through my body when he envelopes me in his arms.
    And maybe that’s why my breath leaves my body in a whoosh.
    And my heart starts thumping against my breastbone.
    And my knees feel like they’re about to give out.
    Jace crushes me to him and cups my chin, lifting it. Our gazes lock. The air crackles with static, at least that’s how it feels. And then…he kisses me and I’m completely and utterly lost.
    Lost in pleasure.
    Lost in need.
    Lost in throbbing, pounding heat.
    His tongue pushes at the seam of my mouth, begging entrance, and I part my lips.
    He tastes fresh and sweet as his tongue caresses mine and our bodies mold together. I feel him scoop me off my feet. He’s carrying me somewhere. I didn’t know where. I don’t care. All I care about is the magic sensations his kiss ignites and the burning in my core.
    I want something…something I don’t understand yet. I hope he knows what it is. Because I want it bad. Need it bad.
    He sets me down on a raised surface and wedges his body between my knees, pushing forward, toward me, forcing my legs apart. His kiss grows more aggressive, his tongue plunging into my mouth. His hands slide under the coat, up my sides, stopping just under my arms. Then his fingers walk, walk, walk, over the sides of my breasts, toward my…
    Ohmygosh!
    My nipples are so sensitive. His fingers flick