Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
I know sex with him again won’t solve anything, but I also don’t want to miss out on the experience.
I gasp when he rolls his hips back and pushes forward.
“That’s it,” he praises, my fingers digging deeper into his back. “How much do you want?”
“All of it,” I pant, knowing exactly what I’m asking for.
Aro is so thick, the base of his cock is a struggle for me. I love it and hate it at the same time. It’s a little pain and a lot sensational.
His lips fall to my neck, his teeth nipping at my skin as he presses all the way forward. His groan in my ear threatens to send me over the edge.
He’s barely moving his hips forward and back only a few inches, but that’s honestly all it’s going to take.
“Fuck, Slick, gonna come.”
And that ruins it.
I feel the pulse of him inside of me, and I hate myself for letting him get in my head, for letting it bother me that he used my club name and not my real one.
I told him before I couldn’t be both people to him and this answers any questions I might come up with regarding what this was. It shouldn’t hurt the way it does to discover I’m his teammate who puts out on occasion.
I roll over, giving him my back the instant he pulls out and crashes beside me.
“I’d like you to leave.”
I only thought I was crushed before, but I’m left in pieces when he dresses and leaves without a word.
I pray he was far enough from the door by the time the first sob escaped so he didn’t hear it.
Chapter 40
Aro
They’re all in my fucking head.
Ugly telling me that I’m missing out on a good thing on the drive back to the clubhouse.
Anthony mentioning that you never let a woman like Slick go.
That fucking douche at the bar telling me he’s more of a man than me.
Kincaid stopping me in the living room before I could make it in here the first time tonight.
All of it pushed me into her room tonight.
Her asking me to leave makes me wonder if I pushed that boundary again. If I was right before about her giving me that part of herself out of pity.
I’m so mad I can’t even pace the length of the room because it takes too much fucking concentration.
I don’t know when I lost that bravado I felt earlier or when the need to act instead of talk shit.
Actually, I do know when I turned into a walking erection. It happened the second she walked out of the bathroom naked.
The need for her in that moment was stronger than it ever has been. I tried to say with my body what I was having a hard time getting my mouth to say, but something seriously got fucked up in the translation.
“Fuck this,” I mutter as I stand and head to my bedroom door.
Her room is only a short distance down the hallway but it feels like a million miles away.
Grateful she hasn’t gotten up to lock her bedroom door, I turn the knob and push it open.
The sound of her sobs echoes around the room for a long moment before it registers in my brain what the fuck is going on.
Crying women aren’t indifferent.
“Did I hurt you?”
She sniffles, her head buried in her pillow.
“Brynn, did I hurt you?”
She scoffs, still keeping her back to me. “Your dick isn’t that big, asshole.”
I’m frozen in place, still too far away from her.
We’ll revisit that conversation at a later date.
“Why are you crying?”
“Could you please leave?”
“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.”
It takes another few breaths for her to stop making noise, and I cross the room to be closer to her, refusing to ask for permission to sit beside her.
“I thought one last time would make me feel better,” she mutters. “But this is my problem. Just leave me alone to deal with it.”
“Brynn, I—”
“Now I’m Brynn?” she mutters. “It was just scratching an itch.”
Everything she is saying is something I’ve thought to myself recently, and it became glaringly obvious that I had no control over how I felt, especially not when it comes to her.
“We’re not fucking doing this,” I snap, reaching over and grabbing her shoulder, pulling as easily as I can manage but still put her in a position to face me. “You’ll fucking face me when you reject me.”
“Reject you? Are you having a psychotic break or something? You rejected me. You shut it down in Albuquerque, not me.”
“I had to,” I confess. “And I’ve fucking regretted it every second since.”
“I’m not—what?”
“I shouldn’t have shut it down.”
“I’m not exactly comfortable with being fuck buddies. It’s bad enough you sent your friend into the store to buy condoms and then didn’t even bother to use them.”