Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
I like being manhandled by Wes. I like his size, his big hands, his rawness. He’s a bedroom explorer, taking me down an unmarked trail, cutting down branches for me as we go.
He slides a thumb under my chin, his dark eyes locking with mine as he says, “I think you want to be fucked by someone who’s not gentle. By someone who’s not polite. By someone who’s figured out that smart girls like dirty sex.”
That’s a sticker the world needs. “Yes,” I gasp. “This one does.”
“Then let’s break that roomie rule so I can fuck you dirty.”
This is not a drill. This is my wild, wicked life. “Yes. Now. Thanks,” I say, grabbing my glasses and putting them back on.
He laughs, then reaches for my hoodie from the chair, offering a hand next. I take his as he tugs me to a stand. I pull my bra up so I’m not walking around tits free, since that’s awkward. Wes moves behind me as I go, setting his hands on my waist, kissing my shoulders while I walk through the sliding glass door into the home.
He stops and shuts the door, but doesn’t relent in his kisses. He’s kissing the back of my neck as he locks it, then as we walk down the hall.
I keep shuddering.
Trembling.
Moaning.
I stop in the hallway, setting a hand on the wall. “Wes, I can’t focus when you kiss me.”
“Good. Don’t focus.”
“But we’ll never get to my bed.”
That stops him. He spins me around, making me face him. He’s silent for a second, then says in a softer voice, “Come upstairs. Come to my bed.”
I blink at the unexpected vulnerability in his tone. “You’ve never invited me upstairs.”
“That was deliberate.”
“Why? Is it messy? I’ve never gone.”
“I know you haven’t.”
“How do you know? Do you have cameras?”
He laughs, shaking his head. “No. I trust you.”
“Good. I wanted to respect your privacy.”
His lips curve up as he travels a hand over my bare arm, leaving goose bumps in his wake. “About that…”
“About respect?” I ask to clarify.
“Yes. You need to know why I didn’t invite you up.”
“Okay,” I ask, but I’m not nervous. I’m…aroused. This is getting good.
“Because all I’ve wanted since you moved in is to get you in my bed, Josie.” He slides his hand into my hair, gathers some strands and tugs me closer, like my hair’s a leash. It’s hotter than I would have thought. “And to fuck you like I don’t respect you.”
A rush of heat whooshes down my body, settles in my core in a needy ache. “Take me upstairs and fuck me like that right now.”
Adventurous Josie is in the house.
30
HORNY GUSTO
Wesley
The second I open the door, I want to haul her against me and kiss her ruthlessly, but Josie’s a processor. She’ll want to see things.
I turn on the light. She drinks in the room as I set down her hoodie on a chair.
It’s not like my bedroom is some inner sanctum of man secrets. I don’t have a hunting knife hanging over the bed, or a collection of Star Wars bobblehead dolls I’m afraid to let anyone see.
In fact, there’s not much to it.
It’s just a big room I really like to sleep in, but I try to look at it through her eyes. She’ll try to read me in the decor, because that’s what she does.
I scrub a hand over the back of my neck, tensing briefly. Didn’t think of this before, but I hope she doesn’t figure I’m a player since this room gives off that vibe. It’s so sleek and monochrome that it screams playboy cool when that’s not who I am. The wooden flooring is polished. The walls are white and minimalistic, with hardly anything hanging on them—just a couple black-and-white beauty shots of San Francisco. I asked the decorator to make it feel like I was part of this city, this team, these fans. But I didn’t choose the pics. Or hang them.
On the far wall, a massive king-size bed takes center stage, its silver metal frame glinting under the light. The bed is covered in pristine white linen. Plush gray pillows are scattered by the headboard.
There’s one picture framed on the nightstand.
I wince, hoping she doesn’t think this means I don’t like roots. I’m just not into decorating. But I hadn’t thought how it might look to someone else. “You’re the first woman to see it,” I say, scratching my jaw.
Josie turns to me, a smile shifting her pretty lips. “Lucky me.” She sounds enchanted.
Well then. I guess that’s all it takes to show her I’m not a player—the truth trumps the decor. I smile back at her. “Guess it’s a little like a hotel room. Pretty sure you like those.”
“I do. They make me feel a little…like I’m getting out of my comfort zone.”