Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 138003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
“Go on, now.” His hand curls around my shoulder.
I glance back with a frown when I realize he’s trying to turn me around.
“Get.” He makes a negligent motion in the direction of the bathroom door.
“What?”
“Time for you to leave,” he says, reaching for the buttons of his shirt.
“But I thought—”
Then the arsehole actually swats my bottom!
“What the fuck!”
“You kiss your mother with that mouth?”
“I do a lot of things with this mouth,” I retort, not sure what I’m saying. “And not all of them she’d approve of.”
“What the fuck,” he mutters, angrily unbuttoning his shirt. “Well, you got that right. What the ever-loving fuck.” Abandoning the buttons, he slides both hands through his hair as he gives a startled-sounding laugh. Like what the hell just went on in here? And I get it—how did we go from laundry to insults to this?
“Lavender, for all your smart mouth…” His lips thin before he begins again. “If you’re not ready, you’d better get the hell out of here before I break my promise.”
“But I thought …” that’s what we were about to do.
“You tell me you choose now and here—say the words explicitly—and I’m down.”
“Do you want a written invitation?” I squeak indignantly.
His chuckle sounds rusty. “You know, I might just hold you to that. That way you can’t throw it back in my face.”
“I’ll throw something in your face,” I retort angrily.
“Your pussy? I might like that. But I’d also want to fuck it. So, how’s it gonna be?”
He doesn’t sound very happy. I know the feeling. I’m so conflicted, wanting him— on his knees, crazy for me—but not wanting to give in.
“If you have to think about it, it means you’re not ready.”
“Oh. You’re a mind reader now?” Turning, I lean my butt against the vanity and fold my arms.
“Then tell me otherwise.”
I tighten my hold on myself and sigh. “Maybe you’re right. A lot has happened today, and I’m not sure we should… do that. Yet. But that doesn’t mean I want you screwing someone else.”
“You don’t like to share your toys,” he purrs as he begins to unbutton the rest of his shirt.
“As it happens, no I do not.”
“Same goes both ways, princess.”
“Good.” I try to keep my expression neutral. Not to drool as I devour his tan chest with each tiny reveal. He reaches the last button, and pushes the sides apart, my gaze falling to the very obvious bulge in his pants. The sight feels like a lick to the inside of my stomach.
Maybe I have changed my mind.
But then Raif makes a gesture, a courtly flourish. Sort of after you. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
“I’m going. In a minute.”
He casts his eyes heavenward and mutters something in that language I don’t understand.
“Would you just leave?” his low voice demands.
I don’t realize I’m nervous until I find my thumbnail in my mouth.
“It’s just… I haven’t even seen it yet.” Apart from a peek.
“You want to see my cock?”
“Yes,” I admit in a mouse whisper. “I want to see all of you. You’ve seen me.”
His eyes shutter closed, and he swallows. I want to press my teeth over that masculine ripple—I want him to do the same, but over the ripple of longing I experience between my legs. His eyes are almost black as they open again.
“Can I?”
“Yeah. Yeah, you can.”
As Raif peels the black leather belt from the buckle, my body begins to throb like it’s sending me a violent message in Morse code.
“When you’re ready to get on your knees and suck it.”
It takes a moment for that to sink in, the entirety of my brain power directed to my eyes, like I might suddenly develop x-ray vision.
He sticks his hand into his underwear as he makes the most masculine, groany growl. “Fuck. I can’t wait to feel your greedy pulse as I fill you up.”
Yes. Yes, please. Tell me more dirty words.
“Which means I’m not in the mood to let you watch.”
“What?”
He gestures to the door.
“Spoilsport.” I push off the vanity.
“Cock tease,” he returns but it doesn’t sound like an insult.
We’re both smiling, so I’ll call this one a draw even though I feel like I’m missing out as I hear the shower turn on.
20
RAIF
What the fuck?
I pause at the entrance to the kitchen, already late for my first meeting, when the sight of Lavender stops me in my tracks. She’s still wearing her pajamas, the cute ones that seemed to be such an inexplicable temptation last night.
Maybe it was the easy access.
Maybe I need my head examined after making fucking her so difficult. As she’d walked from the bathroom, I’d almost chased her.
“Are you watching?” Lavender points a spatula in Daisy’s direction, like a conductor with a baton. The little girl nods from where she’s sitting on an adjacent countertop, her hands pressed under her thighs as her polka-dotted pajama-clad legs swing back and forth in anticipation.