Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
“Was that not romantic enough?” Oliver asks, lifting my watery gaze to meet his bemused one.
“That’s not it.” This man loves me. He loves me. And I am tired of fighting my feelings. The good, the bad, the ugly—the ugly pretty—I want every part of him as desperately as I want his kisses. “It just occurs to me that, by that explanation, I must love you too.”
“Eve.” His voice breaks over my name as he pulls my body flush with his. The pool cue falls from my nerveless fingers, clattering discordant and ignored to the floor. His lips are so tender, and I taste whisky from his tongue as we kiss and we kiss, as we share love and joy and relief. Until that unseen corner is inevitably turned, and our kisses change in strength and depth, becoming deeper and desperate. My moan vibrates through us both, his hands beginning to roam—the base of my throat, my ribs, my waist—when he pulls back, his face made of shadows and determination. He takes my breast full in his hand, plumping lushly, rolling the pebble of my nipple between his fingertips.
“You have become everything to me.” Our mouths meet again, our touches turning frantic, our tongues tangling and our teeth clashing. We kiss as we live, wild for each other.
His T-shirt comes off, mine next, his hands framing my breasts, my nipples aching peaks that he sucks into his mouth.
“Oh, God!” My body bows and twists, his fingers echoing the sucking pull of his lips, liquid hot pleasure bursting through me.
“Darling, I need you.”
“Yes.” With my whispered assent, his hands slip under my thigh, lifting me onto the pool table. Lifting my knee, he drives himself between the clasp of my thighs. We both groan as hard meets soft. “Take these off.” I tug at the waist of his pajama pants, sliding my foot against his thigh.
“You drive me insane.” His words are all ache and gravel, the rasp of his stubble making me pulse and shiver. “You make me the happiest I’ve ever been.”
“Same,” I pant out, my thoughts fragmenting at the threat of his teeth.
“Kissing you makes me feel I could explode with happiness.” His arm at my back is a brace, balls clicking and rolling as he lays me against the green baize. “Fucking you feels like a religious experience.”
“Hallelujah. But less talking, more worshipping.”
“Shut up,” he rasps, playfully biting my shoulder. “You know you love what this mouth can do.”
He’s so right. I think it will always be like this between us. Give and take, push and pull, driving each other crazy all day long. And just when I think it can’t get any better than this, Oliver pulls back, and for a moment, he just stares down at me. I swallow hard, overcome by the love in his eyes. Love and maybe a little surprise, like he’s not sure how he found himself here.
I close my eyes, screwing them tight, imprinting the moment behind my lids. I love him.
“I knew it wouldn’t take long.” He smirks.
“For what?”
“Before you’d look at me again. I know you can’t help yourself,” he taunts. “It’s a curse being this handsome.”
“Pretty, you mean.” Reaching up, I pull his mouth to mine, our kiss urgent and brief, as though we’re frightened we might miss something. My fingers coast through his thick hair, glide over his broad shoulders, his muscles flexing and bunching beneath his heated skin.
“Yes.” I arch into his hand as it glides down between us.
“You smell fucking edible.” His compliment is hot and rough as he makes short work of my pajama bottoms. My body jolts as he brushes the pad of his thumb across my clit. I can feel how wet I am through the mixture of cool air and the heat of his breath. “You’re so pretty. And all mine.” My breathing turns ragged at the press of his tongue, pleasure pulsing through me.
“Oh, yes!” I anchor my hands in his hair as his mouth lays claim to my pussy, the brush of his stubble and the pull of his lips making my whole body tremble. I cry out in surrender. I cry out in love. I give in to this most delicious of torments as I come undone.
A minute or a lifetime later, Oliver is standing above me. His eyes are dark, and his mouth and chin shine obscenely with my pleasure.
“Tell me you want me,” he demands.
“More every day.” I swallow, overcome by the moment. Overcome with the notion that this is our love. Our call and response.
“Tell me again. Tell me—”
“I do.” My hips tilt in a silent plea. “I love you, Oliver.”
“Yes, thank God.”
He lines himself up, and we’re both done for.
Chapter 39
EVIE
A Little Bird Told Us . . .
that wedding bells could be sounding in the distance after a lovestruck billionaire begged residents of his hotel to give up their reservation so he could impress his future in-laws. The besotted businessman exchanged their table for four for a week in a swanky six-star Saint Kitts hotel!