Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Anticipation gathers in the atmosphere like impending storm clouds darkening the horizon.
“I dare you to kiss me.”
Surprise rushes through me as my brows rise across my forehead.
With a tilt of my head, I study him, attempting to figure out what the end game is. “Really?”
“Yup.” Even though he appears relaxed, his muscles are coiled tight as if he’s a snake waiting to strike. Only now do I realize that he’s shed his sweatshirt from earlier. His chiseled biceps are showcased in the tank. It’s enough to make my mouth water. “It’s not like we haven’t kissed before.”
That’s true. Quite a bit back in the day.
But it’s been four years since we locked lips.
“And we’ll kiss again.” The casualness of his tone belies the intensity brewing in his eyes.
I fold my arms across my chest as if the protective stance alone will keep me from falling down the rabbit hole that is Ford Hamilton. “You think so?”
The tip of his tongue swipes over his lower lip. The small, barely discernable movement has heat gathering in the pit of my belly.
All right, so maybe it gathers a little lower.
“Yeah, I just dared you to kiss me, and I know how you can’t resist one of those.”
He’s right, damn him.
My track record when it comes to dares is impeccable. I’m batting a thousand.
His gaze stays fastened to mine as I force my feet into movement, slowly narrowing the space between us. My heart picks up tempo until it pounds a steady staccato in my ears. When I’m standing beside him, he cranes his neck to hold my gaze. My hands shake as they settle tentatively on his shoulders. The heat of his skin singes my fingers as they reluctantly stroke over the broad expanse.
I’ve worked so hard to forget about our past and pretend it never existed. When I’m touching him, that’s no longer possible.
My hands tighten around muscle and bone as I straddle his thighs and gradually lower myself onto his lap until we’re facing one another. Our mouths are inches apart as our gazes stay locked. The minty freshness of his breath wafts across my lips. I have to stop myself from leaning closer and inhaling him like a hit. When his palms wrap around my waist as if to hold me in place, my arms twine around his neck, drawing him close enough for my mouth to ghost over his without ever quite touching.
When my movements stall, he growls, “I’m waiting.”
My lips lift into a faint smile. Ford has never been known for his patience. Especially when he wants something. Anticipation builds within me as the room shrinks around us.
When I can’t resist another second, I lower my face, allowing my lips to drift over his. It’s barely a caress. More like a whisper of air. He tilts his head, angling his chin higher as if to close the distance between us. Instead of giving him what he wants, I retreat an inch or so.
“You’re such a fucking tease,” he says with a groan.
My lips twitch at the corners.
He shifts, pulling me tight enough against him to feel the thick swell of his erection. That’s all it takes for my core to flood with arousal.
Our breath mingles, becoming one, as I nip his lower lip, tugging it with sharp teeth before doing the same to the top. His fingers curl, biting into the flesh of my hips. Instead of hurting, his touch grounds me in the moment unfolding between us. Every cell feels as if it’s been sparked to life.
There’ve been boys in my past. Tons of them. But none have ever made me feel this alive. It’s both addictive and frightening all at the same time.
Deep down in a place I’m unwilling to inspect, I’m terrified that all Ford is doing is ripping the lid off something I’ve spent years trying to keep contained. And yet, that knowledge isn’t enough to stop this from happening. I’m not sure if there’s anything that could tear me away.
And that’s probably the scariest realization of all.
I shove those thoughts from my head and focus my attention on his mouth. I used to love the way he kissed me. Even in high school, he knew precisely what would drive me crazy and how to draw out the most pleasure.
His pupils dilate as I suck on the plump flesh before releasing it with a soft pop. When I’ve teased him enough, my lips slant over his. A groan rumbles up from deep within his chest as his grip tightens. I almost wonder if he’ll take control instead of allowing me to set the pace, but he doesn’t. His lips part just enough for my tongue to slip inside the warmth of his mouth to mingle with his own. Memories unfold inside my head, transporting me back to a time when slipping into bed with him and being held in his arms was a nightly occurrence.