Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
It’s no use.
The damn thing gets harder by the second.
I adjust myself, praying she doesn’t notice any strategic maneuvering—and she doesn’t.
“Are you going to continue the story?” she asks. “I kind of want to learn more about the crazy chick’s roommate.”
“The crazy chick’s roommate,” I say, “as you put it ever so eloquently, was two seconds from going absolutely insane, right along with her. Not only was he living in a house he promised himself he’d never set foot in again for the rest of his life—but he was fixing it up . . . all because the crazy chick wanted to.”
“But she didn’t force him. No one was forcing him. We should make that clear.”
My gaze falls to her lips as I think about all the ways I could silence them, though one method sticks out more than the others. “Anneliese, I swear to God, if you interrupt me one more time—”
“You’ll what?”
Lifting my hand to her face, I trace the pad of my thumb across her pillow-soft bottom lip.
“Either you give this busy little mouth a rest, or I rest it for you.”
Her eyes glint in the dark as she sucks in a tight breath. The outline of her hardened nipples presses through the thin fabric of her top.
“I’m going to be completely honest with you, Anneliese,” I say. “I’m hard as a fucking rock right now.”
She writhes again, laughing under her breath, only this time her knee brushes against my cock.
“Plot twist.” She breaks the silence first.
“You’re damn right it’s a plot twist.”
“Does this mean we have been flirting? And you have been checking me out?” she asks.
“It means there’s a beautiful woman in my bed, pressing her body against mine, for the second night straight, and knowing I can’t have her makes me want her that much more.”
“Now that’s a pickup line.”
“Not trying to pick you up,” I say. “Just being honest.”
I trace my thumb along her lips once more, and mine burn in response. I’ve never wanted to taste anyone this badly in my life.
She lifts her hand to my wrist, wrapping her fingers around me softly as her eyes plead with mine, though I’m not sure if she’s pleading for me to stop or start something neither one of us will know how to finish.
“Promise me something,” she says, her voice a bare whisper. “Whatever happens next, good or bad, something or nothing, just swear you’ll never lie to me about anything, ever.”
Easiest promise I’ve ever made.
“I promise,” I say without hesitation before leaning in to taste those juicy pink lips.
Only she places her hand against my chest, leaning back. “Say it like you mean it.”
“I do mean it . . .” I frown before reminding myself of what this woman has gone through, how many times she’s opened her heart to men only to have them shit all over it. Some men see women like her as a dime a dozen. To me, women like her are one in a billion. Not everyone can wear their vulnerability on their sleeve and make it look sexy as hell. “Anneliese, I swear to you, I promise you, I’ll never lie to you about anything, ever.”
Her body softens against me, and her lips part slightly, a silent invitation.
Pulling her closer, I narrow the space between us inch by inch, until we’re breathing the same air and our mouths are almost touching.
Cupping her cheek, I angle her chin upward, until we’re perfectly aligned, and then I press my mouth hard against hers, slipping my tongue between her lips until we collide. She’s peppermint and soft skin, sweet sighs and beautiful tragedy. I pull her onto my lap, and she tugs her tank top over her head, revealing only a pair of satin shorts so thin I can tell she’s wearing nothing beneath them.
She sweeps her hair off the back of her neck, leaning back and grinding against my hardness until it aches, pushing against the thick cotton of my sweats.
I grip her hips before sliding my hands up her sides and stopping at her full breasts, taking her pert nipples between my fingertips until she releases the softest moan.
Leaning up, I silence her with a kiss before brushing my lips against her ear.
“Your parents are down the hall,” I remind her.
The bed creaks with our movements. A metal groan here or there is nothing, but a series of them in rhythmic order is enough to give us away.
Slipping my hands around her wrists, I deposit her hands over my shoulders. She wraps her legs around my hips, and I carry her to the small chest of drawers on the other side of the room, placing her on top.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
I taste her mouth once more before dragging my fingertips along her inner thighs. When I get to her knees, I spread them wide. Anneliese runs her fingers through my hair, grabbing a fistful, as I lower my mouth to her sex.