Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 113272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
She laughed and swatted my shoulder—again—and yes, Emilia LeBlanc wanted to fuck me as much as I wanted to fuck her. It was written all over her body language.
“Let me finish! I’m cautious. I take my time. Oils take a century to dry. You need to open the windows and let them air dry, but I like how the colors are vibrant and the painting looks so real. Oil paint is actually pretty toxic. It’s terrible for Rosie’s lungs, but I still use it because I hate acrylic.” She sighed, blushing a little.
Hot damn. Help was admitting to doing something selfish. She was definitely cracking.
I placed my hands over my temples and shook my head, feigning shock. “Mind-blowing shit, LeBlanc. Next thing you’ll tell me you pay your taxes after April fifteenth.”
“I like to live on the edge.” She shrugged and sucked a noodle between her lips, using chopsticks.
I almost shoved away the paper takeout containers and pinned her to the drop cloth. Almost.
But it was becoming clearer to me that I wouldn’t be able to hold myself back for long. I wanted that pussy, and I deserved it. It was mine.
“I’m not all good,” she said, slurping more food. I loved how she ate like she didn’t give a fuck that I was watching her.
“Nobody’s all good, just like nobody’s all bad.” I licked my lower lip, and she did the same. She dropped her chopsticks and chanced another glance at me. I continued eating, pretending I didn’t give a damn.
“Sometimes I think you’re all bad,” she said, but I knew she didn’t really mean it. I knew Emilia LeBlanc well enough to know she saw the goodness in everyone. Even assholes like me.
“Care to test that theory?” I slurped a noodle between my lips and winked. “I can make you feel pretty fucking good. Just say the word.” She laughed, and it felt good in my chest. Warm, even.
“Is that your official pick-up line? If so, I’m half-suspecting you’re still a virgin.” She wrinkled her nose.
Yes, it was on, so fucking on. She was charmed. I recognized it when women were affected. Smelled it from miles, like a shark out for blood.
I tossed my empty takeout box aside and moved closer to her. She didn’t retreat. She wanted it. Wanted my mouth on hers. Wanted my hands buried in her cherry-blossom hair and my body grinding against hers. It was happening. Finally.
I leaned in. She stopped breathing and looked down, waiting…expecting… wanting. It took every ounce of fucking self-control in me to lift my hand and brush her delicate neck instead of pinning her wildly to the floor and ripping her stupid leggings from her thighs.
She released a breath, lolling her head to the side. “I’m going to regret this.” Her voice was tiny, like her.
“Probably,” I agreed. “But it’ll be worth it.”
My lips made the journey from her neck to their final destination—to where they fucking belonged from day one. Her warm breath tickled my flesh, and I wanted her to suffocate me with her kiss. I resisted the urge to ball my fists, unexpectedly worried about how this would go down. I was starving for her. My next move wasn’t going to be a calculated one, and that was the first time I’d felt that way about anything in a long time.
I was so close that I was able to feel her skin meeting mine, the little lines of her red lips brushing mine, when the door unlocked and fucking Rosie walked in.
Emilia withdrew herself from me immediately before I had a chance to finish the job, and started collecting the takeout containers littered around us.
“Rosie!” Her voice pitched high. “What took you so long? I got you some noodle soup. It will warm you right up.”
She quickly disappeared into the kitchen behind a long white wall. I leaned back on my forearms on the drop cloth, staring at grown-up Rosie like she’d pissed in my food. She returned a feisty look in my direction. Oddly, it made me feel like a teenager all over again.
“If you hurt her, I will kill you.” She pointed her finger at me for emphasis.
I was perfectly still, giving zero fucks about this five-foot-four gnome firing threats at me like she was Rambo.
“Cock-blocking me first and threatening me? Should I remind you that the only reason you’re not living in a sewer with that rat who trains the Ninja Turtles is because of my generosity?” I slanted my head sideways, flashing her my arrogant smirk. It was the exact one that drove men insane with anger and women mad with lust.
Rosie, of course, was immune to my charm. Using her to get her sister’s attention ten years ago had killed every good thought she’d had about me. Not that she’d had many even before we kissed. In fact, I was pretty sure our lips had only locked because she was irritated by my lack of attention. I was the only teenager with a dick at All Saints who hadn’t been consumed with impressing her. Of course, I was fully occupied with obsessing over her older sister.