Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 83800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
This second kiss ends much too soon, just as the first one did, and my eyes stay locked on his damp lips. I fight a moan when his tongue sneaks out and traces the lower curve of his mouth. I want those lips tracing, exploring, and memorizing every inch of my body, and then I want to give the same in return.
"We were interrupted yesterday," he whispers, the warmth of his breath coated with the sweetness of the coffee he's already drank this morning.
"We were," I quickly agree, my hands on his hips, clinching his t-shirt.
"I wish I would've asked you to stay," he confesses, his body still pressed to mine.
I'm so very aware of every inch of him, and it takes more strength than I feel like I have to keep from reaching down much the same way I did yesterday and running my hand along the length of his erection.
But I follow his lead, keeping my hands on his hips because he's making no move to lift my dress and sink his fingers inside of me, although that's exactly what my body is craving right now.
"What would've happened if I stayed?" I ask, pulling my eyes from his lips and lifting them to his gaze.
His smile is slow, more of a seduction than I've gotten from fully naked men in the past, and it forces another wave of cold chills up my spine. His eyes hold so many promises, and it's almost enough to make me skip work so I can spend the day in his arms, living out every fantasy I never knew to ask for with this man.
A niggle of frustration grows inside of me when his smile continues without further explanation. My mind is wild with scenarios, and I know that him just speaking them out loud would rile me up enough to get me on my back, but I don't think that's his ultimate plan. He's simply living in this moment with me, not purposely leaving me frustrated and a little annoyed. I have to remind myself that he's unlike any other man I've come in contact with. He's not the type to make promises he won't later bring to life.
"Maybe a do-over?" I suggest, once again, rolling my body against his, not as a tease but because I just can't seem to help myself.
"It left my hair greasy and stains on my clothes," he says, his smile wide, eyes sparkling as if he has yet to entirely toss the idea.
"We can do it without the oil," I offer. "We can just pick up where we left off. I'm slick enough for the both of us."
His groan with my confession bounces around the room, giving me the bravery I've been searching for since walking into the room.
I release his shirt, running my hand down the front of his abs, all the while doing my best not to whimper at the feel of his muscles under my fingertips.
As if choreographed and rehearsed for weeks, he stops my hand just as my touch brushes the top of his pajama pants. I don't miss the way my fingers trail over the top of his erection before he stops me.
"This is not the place for that," he says, but his voice is husky and filled with as much need as I feel.
"We can go back to your room."
"We can't."
"My room then," I offer with a coy smile.
His laughter swirls around us as his head tilts back, eyes pointing at the ceiling.
"I want you so badly," I confess, wondering if it sounds as desperate to his ears as it does my own.
"And I want you," he says, his chin curling downward as he locks his eyes on mine. "Soon."
The one-word promise makes me want to stomp my feet and throw a tantrum like a toddler not getting her way. I fight the urge, but barely.
"We've used up all of our time for breakfast," he says, giving my captured hand a final squeeze before stepping back.
I didn't realize how warm he was against me until he took a step back, and the cool air in the room replaced his body heat.
"I can make you a coffee, though."
I stand to the side, biting my lip and watching his muscles work as the man makes me a travel mug full of coffee the exact same way I would've made it for myself. His attention to detail has to be one of the sexiest things about him. Paying attention to me and the things I like is the ultimate power move. It makes me feel seen and makes every single man I've had in my life prior to this moment a distant memory.
My eyes sting with unshed tears when he turns back around, placing the lid on the cup before offering it to me.