Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
“Oh, so you’re a good guy, are you?”
He takes another short step forward. He’s looming so far above me now. I have to bend myself backward just to meet his gaze.
His eyes flit down. If I didn’t know better, I would think he’s checking out my breasts.
“No,” he says. “I’d never claim to be a good guy. I just don’t happen to be a drug dealer. Now, are you going to bring me the drugs or am I going to have to turn this place upside down?”
“You think you know me,” I say.
“What?” he grins, wolfishly, seemingly enjoying the back and forth.
“I said you think you know me,” I murmur, having to work hard to keep my voice steady.
His closeness sets my belly alight, sends swirling and multiplying flames dancing all through me. My clit buzzes and pulses and my lips grow wet and tingly, grinding together in my panties every time I so much as breathe. My nipples are so freaking hard right now, I’m sure they must be poking through my bra.
Is that why he keeps looking down at my breasts?
Or am I just imagining, wishing?
“Your little speech made that very clear,” I go on. “So if you think you can read me so well—”
“I can,” he snarls. “I can read your every want, Kimberly, just from the way those bright green eyes of yours glisten.”
“Okay,” I whimper.
My clit pulses.
Surely this isn’t all in my head.
What else could he possibly mean by these words, except that he wants me as badly as I want him?
“Look at me and tell me if I’m lying,” I say, staring firmly up at him. “I did not take any drugs from that basement. Tinkerbell scratched away the partition. When I saw what she’d done, I was just glad she didn’t accidentally ingest any of that crap. That’s it. I swear, Kristian. I swear on my dead mother’s life.”
I don’t know where that last bit comes from. Something about this man is drawing my emotions too close to the surface, my voice warbling and shimmering. I cough back a confused mess of emotions, a near-sob, and avert my gaze.
I need to get myself under control.
I flinch when he brings his hand up to my chin, but then I settle into the warmth of his touch, the certainty with which he guides my gaze back to him.
“I believe you, Kimberly,” he says gruffly. “But I can’t fight this anymore.”
“Fight what?” I murmur.
“The urge to claim those fuckable lips of yours.”
I gasp as this man – this stranger who inexplicably doesn’t feel like a stranger – leans down and presses his rough lips against mine.
For long moments I don’t know what to do. He growls and shoves himself closer to me, working my lips apart with his tongue.
Then I feel something within me take over, as though that needy humming force inside of me is rising up and taking control of my lips.
I let out a muffled moan and raise my hands to his shoulders, gripping on and feeling his rock hard muscles through the fabric of his suit, so hard it’s like he could tear the fabric apart at any second.
He snarls through the kiss, grabbing my hips and guiding me to the wall.
Is this really happening?
Part of me is certain that any second now I’m going to jolt awake on Jackie’s bed with Tinkerbell. Maybe I followed her in there and collapsed next to her, exhausted from all the work I’ve been doing lately.
Maybe I’m rolling around and these moans and breathy sighs are really just fabrications of my unconscious mind.
“Fuck,” Kristian snarls, breaking off the kiss for a moment.
He squeezes onto my hips. I cringe, but I don’t want to spoil the moment and tell him to take his hands away.
I don’t want him to take his hands away. I just wish I didn’t have to poison this moment by being self-conscious about my curviness.
“You feel even better than I imagined,” he says, his breath painting me hotly.
“You imagined touching me?” I moan, my skin shivering endlessly at his touch.
“From the second I saw you leave the house,” he growls. “I was rock hard as I watched you, Kimberly. It took every ounce of self-control I had not to drag you back into that house and fuck you like you deserve to be fucked—hard, relentlessly, pounding your sweet wet pussy until you could barely take any more. But you will. You’ll take as much as I want you to.”
“I can’t believe this is happening,” I whimper. “You just arrived ten minutes ago. Maybe less.”
“Yes,” he says passionately, his lips so close to mine I’m sure I can still taste him. “But you can feel it just as much as I can. I can see it in your eyes. You want this. You fucking need this.”