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)
"Because you'll hack the information?" I tease, wanting out of this black hole of emotion just as much as it seems he does. "Like you did with my Thai order?"
"That," he says, stepping back and pointing to the familiar bag on the small table in his room. "Was information I got from asking Kaylee."
"You didn't use your computer spy skills to get it?"
I smile when he looks away, his cheeks growing pink.
"Full disclosure," he says, raising his hands in mock surrender. "They use handwritten order pads. Those don't leave a digital footprint for me to track."
"Either way," I begin, stepping around him and closer to the delicious-smelling food. "I'm glad it's here. What did you get?"
Robert slides past me and begins to remove the items from the bag, placing each to-go container on the table.
"Chicken strips and french fries, of course," he says, opening one of the Styrofoam containers and pulling a crinkle-cut french fry out before popping it into his mouth with a wide grin.
"You are such a child," I mutter, my tone laced with humor.
"A child?" he asks as he turns toward me, leaving the food.
I nod, grinning at him when he steps up against me.
"I'm not a child," he assures me, his face lowering until his lips are trailing warmth down my neck. "I can prove it."
"I don't think you can," I whisper, angling my head to the side to grant him better access.
"Can I try?" he asks, his breath warm on my skin just before his teeth nip at my earlobe.
"S-sure," I manage, and it seems to be all the permission the man needs for his hands to wander all over my body.
I feel every touch, every brush of his fingers over my clothes, and suddenly, the fabric touching me instead of skin-to-skin contact is abrasive. I want to roll my body against him like a purring cat, and these damn clothes are getting in the way.
He chuckles, his warm breath on my throat, when my hands immediately begin to tug at the hem of his t-shirt.
"Eager," he whispers, lifting his arms and letting me pull his shirt off.
I swear my mouth literally waters at the sight of his muscles. I just know I could spend a million hours mapping out every single inch of him just to be excited to start back at the beginning to do it all over again.
"I like this," I whisper, tracing the line of hair below his belly button and dipping the tip of my finger into his sweatpants.
"I-I like that too," he says, half-growl, half-groan.
I take it a step further, pressing my full hand into his sweats, the back of my knuckles trailing along his erection. His hips roll against my hand, searching for more pressure, and I'm torn between teasing him and making him ache and just wrapping my hand around his length and giving him exactly what he's looking for.
Either option is fantastic, honestly.
"Tit for tat," he says, his hand slipping between my skin and the fabric of my leggings.
My knees nearly buckle when, instead of the back of his hand, his palm is facing my body, his fingers reaching and finding exactly what he's looking for.
His lips curl up into a smile against my skin.
"I'm going to fall," I confess, and that's all it takes for him to move.
He lifts me with one arm around my back, walking us back several feet until I'm gently situated against his bedroom door.
I press my head to the door, my eyes closed as his talented fingers begin to explore. I'm so slick, the glide of them is utter perfection. It somehow feels like an absolute tease and exactly what my body is craving all at the same time.
I lick at dry lips, my hand turning so I can grip his cock, and when he freezes, a moan of need slipping past his lips, it makes me chuckle.
I run my hand up and down him once, wishing we were both naked and on his bed, but this somehow feels exactly right as well.
"I'm going to embarrass the shit out of myself," he grunts.
"We can stop," I suggest, knowing he'll have to pry my hand out of his pants, and there's a very real possibility that I'll scratch his eyes out if he stops touching me.
"I don't think I can," he responds, pulling his face back so he can look me directly in the eyes. "Do you want to?"
I shake my head so fast it makes a smile tug up the corners of his mouth.
He watches me, his tongue licking his bottom lip when I groan with need.
"Just hold me," he begs when I sweep my hand down the length of him again. "Ah, God, you feel so good."
Just then, he slips a single finger through my slickness, not stopping until it's buried inside of me.