Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
“I like a lot of the devil,” I say, grinding against the ridge of his erection, savoring the feel of him already aroused.
“Then that’s what you should have.” He runs his nose along my neck, inhaling me. I shudder under his touch—his clear need for possession. “I think I saw you the other night,” he whispers in my ear as he pushes against my ass again, giving me an idea of what he might do to me.
“I think you did too,” I say, a little breathy. The preview lights up all my senses.
“Kept hoping I might run into you again, if I’m being honest,” he adds.
“And why would you be anything but honest?” I ask, sliding my hands along the fabric of the slacks covering his muscular thighs. “Especially when it comes to desire.”
“Then tell me something that’s true right now,” he says, and lust pulses through me as well as an intense longing to taste those lips.
I turn to look into his eyes, then say, “Not gonna lie – I want to feel your lips against mine right the fuck now.”
“Then far be it from me to deny you.” He threads his hands through my hair, keeps our gazes locked, and slowly, deliciously, inches closer until his lips cover mine and his taste floods my senses.
His hands rope through my hair and his mouth crushes mine. His lips are incredible. Pillowy and lush. Commanding and intense. He sweeps them over mine, sucking on my bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth, making me groan.
Thank God the music is blaring. The sounds I’m making are dangerously loud and dirty as he takes my mouth in a punishing kind of kiss. This is a new type of kissing.
The man radiates possession.
Ownership.
Want.
Is that what I’ve been looking for?
I spend so much of my days running hard, fielding on high alert, clobbering fastballs. Lift harder, run farther, do better—my world consists of pinpoint moments of precision, speed, and intensity.
At night, I imagine letting go. Right now I am not in charge, and I think I like it.
He breaks the kiss, runs his lips along my jaw, travels to my ear. “You taste so fucking good. Like I’ve been fantasizing about.”
This guy has been dreaming of me? I’m vibrating with want. I’m wound up with need. “Tell me what you pictured,” I say, opening the door for him to share his wishes.
With a hot groan, he nibbles on my earlobe, biting it. “You under me . . . on your knees . . . bent over the kitchen counter. Would you like that?”
Lust charges through me as I pull back and stare into those brown eyes, dark pools of shimmering lust. This man has my number already. “So fucking much.”
He jerks me closer so we grind together. “I want to toss you on my bed. Get my hands all over you. Make you forget the day,” he says, painting a seductive scene.
Do I want that? It’s both terrifying and thrilling.
But fuck fear. “Why don’t you start that tonight?” I ask, urging him on.
But a blur of red silk and black hair interrupts—a woman puts her hand on his arm. Worry paints her eyes, and it’s such a contrast to these flirty, dirty feelings that I pause my dance with this handsome stranger of mine.
“Rafe,” she says, her tone wobbly and her face pinched with anxiety. She speaks into his ear, and I catch the word emergency.
Rafe answers her, concern in his eyes. “Of course, Theresa. We’ll take my car.” Then he turns back to me, saying, “I’ve got to take her home. Her father had a fall.”
I wave toward the exit. “Of course. Go.”
He reaches out and runs a thumb along my jaw. “I’ll be here this weekend. Saturday night. If you want to see me, show up.”
If? I’m dying to see Rafe anytime. What a perfect name. He’s so damn commanding, he must be a Rafe.
But before I can say I’d be here tomorrow if you told me to, he brushes a kiss on my cheek then weaves through the crowd with the woman.
I watch him go, admiring the shape of his ass, the strength of his back, the wave of his hair. Then I’m standing on the dance floor, utterly aroused.
I’m hot and restless, more than I’ve ever been before. I examine this kernel of lust inside me. There’s something about Rafe that sparks not only my desire for men but a new, wicked hunger in me. Something I haven’t explored.
Something I desperately want to experience.
As I take a Lyft home—alone—I check the calendar on my phone. I have a night game on Saturday. Fuck.
But as I replay the evening’s highlights, I have a growing suspicion who my sexy Brit might be and where I’ve seen his name before. Perhaps I even know the name intimately.