Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“No.”
“I will pick you up and put you in there myself,” he threatens.
“I’ll get out,” I sass back.
“I will put you on my lap as I drive.”
“That’s mighty dangerous.”
“I like to live on the edge.”
“Yes, I’m sure you do,” I say with an eye roll. To which he grinds his jaw.
He slips my phone into his pocket and then takes a step in my direction.
“I know kung fu,” I warn, and his lips twitch.
“I’m sure you do,” he drawls.
I don’t actually know any fighting styles, but I thought it might be a warning to leave me alone. Clearly, the man doesn’t listen, because he lifts me into his arms and hauls me to the car like I’m a piece of luggage. At the open driver’s side door, he pivots and then climbs in. I bend my legs, without even thinking, as he slides the seat back so we both fit.
“Nope, this is not happening,” I tell him, trying to push away. But he’s strong and doesn’t let me go. I’m now half in the car with one knee between his legs.
“You either get into the passenger seat, or I’ll keep you right here until I get you home.”
I clench my teeth as I glare at him. “You are not in charge of me. You told me to come here tonight, and I did.”
“Yes, about that—”
“Nope. We are not discussing that now. You’re annoying me.” I try to push away again, but he’s so fucking strong.
“Passenger or driver’s side?” he asks.
“Neither.” The word leaves me accompanied by a growl.
He shrugs, closing the door, and then maneuvers my body so he can slide in properly. I end up basically straddling him, my knees on either side of his hips, and my back against the steering wheel.
If I lower myself just a little, I would be able to feel him between my legs. Nope. I can’t think those things. Staring at him, I try to give him my best fuck-you glare. And all he does is smirk.
“Your place or mine?” he asks.
“Neither,” I say again.
In response, he pulls me down until I have no choice but to sit on his lap and feel him there.
“Remove your hands,” I demand.
“You didn’t use your manners.”
“Move your fucking hands,” I say with a bright tone and a smile. “Better?” I cock my head to the side in challenge, watching his jaw tighten.
“You know what that mouth does to me,” he says, voice low and raspy. Then, as quick as lightning, his hands are on my face, holding me in place while he leans forward. And before I know what’s happening, his lips are on mine, and I’m opening my mouth to let his tongue slide inside.
Again.
I have to stop letting him in, but gosh, can he kiss. He tastes like so many possibilities and all the wrong things all at once. I know I should stop; this isn’t right. But my hands somehow find their way to his chest through his open shirt, caressing his hot skin when I should be slapping him.
He slides one hand down my body, slowly, as if he’s afraid he might frighten me. Or maybe he’s just taking his time with me. I’m not sure which. When his hand lands on my ass, he squeezes it and then pulls me even closer and rubs his massive cock against me until pleasure starts spiking at my core, and without thinking, I push myself down more so I’m pressed as tight as I can get against him.
God, he feels so good.
A knock on the window makes me jump, and my teeth scrape his lip as I pull back.
He locks eyes with me and smirks before another knock comes.
EIGHTEEN
SOREN
“What?” I snap as I turn at the sound of someone knocking on my window.
“Great fight, man. Think you can teach me?” the man asks.
Cressida attempts to move off my lap, but I yank her back. Having my aching, hard-as-fuck cock pressing against her feels too damn good to stop now.
“No,” I tell him, then basically dismiss him by turning my attention back to Cressida.
“Let me go. You can drive me home,” she says.
But I don’t want to let her go.
I want her lips back on mine and to feel her pushing down against my cock again.
Fuck.
What are we doing?
I don’t play with women, but I can’t seem to stop myself when it comes to her.
What is wrong with me?
“Come on, man, I pay well,” the man outside the window offers. Ignoring him, I keep my focus trained on the woman straddling me.
“You’ll stay in the car? You won’t try to run off?” I confirm.
“Bros before hoes,” the guy calls out.
Cressida’s eyes flare wide, and she turns her head to the window. “Fuck you! I’m no one’s hoe.”
I can’t fight a smirk from forming. I lean in and whisper in her ear, “You plan to pull out your kung fu skills on him?”