Total pages in book: 13
Estimated words: 11713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 59(@200wpm)___ 47(@250wpm)___ 39(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 11713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 59(@200wpm)___ 47(@250wpm)___ 39(@300wpm)
Or the same room.
“I’ve not heard otherwise, have you?” He was consistently aware of everything around them. Specifically around Jo. Bone deep was his need to protect this woman and make sure no harm came to her.
Together they walked over the white tile floor, luggage between them.
“Nope but I’ve not spoken to Emily for a while.”
He heard the pain in her words. Everything within him cried to pull her to him and offer comfort. He knew how close the women were and how difficult this rift between them. If he knew how to make better for her, he would in a second. All of the members of his SAR group had discussed this and it was killing them to stay out of it but they all knew the women had to find their own way back to one another.
Didn’t make it easier for him. Again, he longed to slay all her dragons and solve all the problems for her. If only she would let him.
They were the only two in the elevator and he waited for her to push the button for her floor, he ignored his and as soon as they began moving, he blocked her in, arms on either side of her head.
“Jo.”
It was a rasp. Guttural. Needy.
Her pupils dilated and her full lips parted. Lips he longed to nip at and suck on.
Chapter 2
Jo was in deep. Like deep doo doo. Up shits creek without a paddle, waders or anything that could help her get out of the muck.The man who’d cornered her in the elevator was a force unto himself. She’d ducked under his arm and damn near sprinted to her room. Part of her, okay most, expected and possibly a bit of hope in there, that he would have followed behind her.
She didn’t want to begin to explore why the disappointment he hadn’t sat so heavily within her chest. He wasn’t the one for her. Namely, he was too young. Or she was too old for him and didn’t care to be seen as a cougar.
Then there was that their friends were coupled. If something happened…when…it would make get-togethers stressful and uncomfortable. Nothing she wanted to do because she loved her friends completely and wouldn’t care to miss being around them.
Suitcase on the bed, she sat beside it and put her hand over her heart. Sleeping with guys wasn’t something she was a prude about. She had no apologies for loving sex.
There were some lines however and Kenan was on the wrong side of one. She didn’t mess around with friends. Not like him.
She’d watched him the few times they had been around each other. He was smooth and charming, winning over women and babies like he was the best fucking thing since sliced bread. Such a ladies man and yet more.
The man has forever written all over him.
It wasn’t like she didn’t want a man, children, house, that kind of thing but she also knew how rare it was to find that. Her parents put forth a great showing but she knew the truth. She’d seen it and heard it. That horrible side of the marriage coin.
That wasn’t what she wanted. The constant bickering, yelling, fights, and tears. Perfect on the outside looking in. Anything but that from the inside out. Scaring the children who were raised in that household.
No thanks.
Better to get the itch scratched and carry on.
Squeezing her legs together she thought about the man who shared the hotel with her. Not that she needed to be thinking about him at all.
Because now I’m horny. Not that it matters he is too young for me. He’s got to be not even twenty-five. I’m not about to be that creepy woman lusting after a younger man. I am not a cougar.
Then again, for a taste of him…
Hissing a long, sexually frustrated breath, she skimmed a hand down over her breasts, her belly and on to the junction of her thighs. Hand paused, she could feel the heat she emanated and fought the urge to rub.
Suddenly, her lack of bringing a vibrator along for this trip was a glaring mistake. She needed something to get the edge off. Other than her fingers. She needed something longer. Thicker.
The press of a hard male body to hers. The scent of his skin, sweaty and masculine. To be caged in by his weight. The rough rasp of his facial hair along her skin, marking her. Branding her.
Her breath huffed out as she arched into her nearly nonexistent touch. She flopped back and tapped her fingers over her clit, needing the pressure to increase. To have something hard there she could ride and take pleasure from.
Skin flushed, heartrate up, she lay there struggling with her own need. It wouldn’t take much, just a few flicks below her clothing with practiced fingers and she would find that precipice she desperately craved. Inching her fingers back up, she pushed them below the waistband of her pants and bit her lower lip as she slid down.