Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“Over coffee.” Well … spilt coffee, but the details aren’t important.
I lock eyes with Tessa, and she beams back at me. Her hair and skin glow under the lights. She crooks a finger at me, wanting me to join her. I bite my lip and nod at her. What I’d like to do is take her back to the hotel and kiss her within an inch of her life, along with every inch of her skin.
“Huh? Like this angel just fell down from heaven into your lap.”
“Pretty much.” I pull a wad of cash out of my wallet and give it to Lucas for the bill. “We’re outta here.” I rise off the couch to join the blonde bombshell, drawing me to her like a moth to a flame.
“I had a courier leave the Yankee tickets at the hotel front desk. See you Sunday.” I release a deep breath. Dammit. I forgot I said I’d go to the game with him.
“Sure, Lucas.” I sigh, knowing I can’t back out this late, but I only have a few days left with Tessa. I need her to take me up on the offer to stay longer at the hotel, at least until she finds a job. I want her here permanently. “It’s after midnight. I’d better get Cinderella home.”
“Lucky fuck,” he scoffs.
“Yeah. I am,” I say, walking toward Tessa with a cocky grin.
24
Tessa
Barclay sets his empty glass on a side table and finally rises off the couch to join me on the floor. I’ve been dancing with his friend’s date, and Barclay seemed way too comfortable watching me, but I loved having his eyes on me. Between his hungry stares and the intense energy filling the air, I’ve never felt more alive and wild, but I’d rather have Barclay’s arms around me and his lips on mine. A girl can at least hope that’s the direction the night’s heading.
Barclay leans forward and brings his mouth to my ear. When his lips caress my heated skin with a feather-like touch, tingles ghost down my neck and a warmth pools deep in my belly. I can only take so much anticipation before I end up begging him to kiss me and humiliating myself in the process.
“Okay, princess. It’s time to go,” he says, pulling away from me, but I want him back close enough so I can smell his delicious scent. The look in his eyes tells me the night’s not over yet, which thrills me, but there’s one thing I want to do first. With a dreamy man. In my dream city.
“Dance with me,” I breathe, batting my eyelashes at him and adding a lip bite.
I may be lacking in hands-on experience, but I’ve read enough romance novels to have a clue about the art of seduction and sexual persuasion. His dark hooded eyes signal I’ve hit the mark, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Just one,” he says, taking my hands and pulling me to him, a teasing gleam in his eyes. I won this round.
Reaching up, I join my hands around the nape of his neck, basking in the feel of his skin after I’ve been dying to touch him all night. My forefingers twirl his hair at the base of his collar. It’s soft, yet thick, with a slight flip on the ends. Maggie would call it sex hair, and I would have to agree.
A new song begins, and I tighten my hands around him. “One more song, please? That one was just ending.”
“Okay, but after that, we leave.” I smile up at him in victory.
Barclay rests a hand on the small of my back, his other possessively holding my neck. He presses me closer to him, and our bodies mold together. I feel the hard lines of his erection against my stomach, and gasp, though he doesn’t press hard against me. It’s more of an introduction, an extremely firm hello. He responds with a twisted grin, then his dark gaze lands on my lips.
Kiss me, Barclay. Please just kiss me.
But he doesn’t. Instead, his hips start a sensuous swivel in time with the beat, and I follow his lead.
A week ago, back in Monroeville, Alabama, a dance like this with a handsome older man would’ve scared me senseless or gotten him run out of town by my brother. But here, at this club in New York City, our erotic movements match our surroundings—daring and living on the edge.
“The things I want to do to you, sweet girl,” he whispers against my ear. I close my eyes, and my head falls back. “I’ll start with a kiss. One you’ll still feel on your lips tomorrow morning.”
“Yes.” I slur the word in a haze of desperation and lick my lips at the thought of finally kissing this beautiful man. I rise up on my tiptoes so he can reach me better.