Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 74348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
He sat back far too quickly, opening the container for the brownies, placing the ice cream container on his thigh.
I would need to dig my spoon into a little cup sitting on his thigh to get some.
Never before had I been quite so ravenous for ice cream.
But I waited for him to start before I did.
Pretty soon, the TV did manage to steal most of my attention. I mean, who didn't pay attention when Keanu Reeves was on the TV with a gun and a bad guy and a buddy who is being held as a human shield?
I hadn't even been all that aware of the fact that my hand reached to hold the ice cream container as I scooped it out until I reached over and found my hand cupping not the paper container, but a strong thigh instead.
My gaze shot up, eyes feeling huge, only realizing after seeing his lips curved up that my hand was still clutching his thigh.
I released it like it had scalded me. "Whoops. I, ah, the ice cream was, you know... there. Just a second ago it seemed. Did we drop it?" I asked, glad for an excuse to look away from something in his eyes I was trying like hell to call desire. But only... it couldn't have been desire. That was more wishful thinking. "I don't see it on the floor..." I mumbled, awkwardly folded over my thigh to glance around the ground.
It was then I felt a nudge, making me straighten, finding the missing container in his hand, a spoon outstretched. His spoon. Toward me. With the last bit of ice cream on it.
It was silly, but it felt incredibly intimate to be using his spoon. Or maybe that was only because the most intimacy I had engaged in with a man in the past God-knew how long was brushing the hand of the bagger at the grocery store the week before.
My poor body - so starved for attention - reacted immediately, my lips parting for the invasion. My gaze refused to move from his, even though I knew there was likely no mistaking the desire in my eyes.
The spoon moved forward, slipping inside my mouth. My lips closed around it automatically. And I could swear there was a flicker, a flame in his eyes for a second as he pulled the spoon away.
It was gone before I could be sure. And there was no way I could possibly ask him about it. It was bad enough that I felt heat creeping up the sides of my neck. If I let it go on, it would slip over my cheeks, redden them. There would be no way to pretend it wasn't happening then.
Even knowing this, though, I couldn't seem to break our eye-contact.
Until there was a beep that made him do it.
His phone.
"Is everything okay?" I asked, hand going to my throat that felt almost alarmingly warm.
He shot off the text he was answering before opening a new note.
Colson's little girl spiked a fever. He had to take off. They need me back.
The disappointment crawled through my belly, a sticky, uncomfortable thing.
"Oh, no. I hope she's alright. But, yeah, of course. You have to get going," I agreed, hopping to my feet, nearly tripping over the edge of the coffee table before righting myself. "This was really nice, though," I added, babbling as I made my way to the door, hearing Cam's footsteps behind me. "I mean, you know, having company. I never really get to spend any time with anyone. It was really nice to have someone around to share a meal and a movie with. Maybe we could do it again. I mean, you know, if you would be..." I was still prattling on as I pulled the door open, as Cam moved into the open space.
I was pretty sure I would have kept yammering too.
If Camden hadn't silenced me.
In the most effective way possible.
I hadn't seen it coming, too lost in my own swirling thoughts to consider his intentions.
But one minute I was talking nonstop.
The next, Camden's hand was snagging my chin, gently pulling it upward. Then sealing his lips over mine.
All I knew then was absolute silence.
He made the world and - what's more - my head go completely quiet. It was a feat I never would have considered possible.
But he gave that to me.
Quiet chaos.
Because there was no other way to describe what was going on inside me but chaos.
His lips set off a tingling that started at the contact, worked its way around my jaw, down the back of my neck, sliding down my spine, settling at the juncture of my thighs.
My entire body swayed forward into his waiting, steady chest.
On a growling noise that drowned out my needy whimper, his hand slid to the back of my neck, holding me there while his lips slanted over mine again, harder, more demanding.