Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Gotta play it cool.
Gotta play it cool, Jaye.
Keep reminding me of that!
My toes impatiently drum the floor beneath me. “Which is?”
“I want the same shit you do, Jaye.”
Yes! Yes! Yes!
“But…”
No! No! No!
“I don’t wanna risk the first real friend I’ve had since Hiltz and St. Clair died.” Another slow headshake occurs. “Losing you…losing what we have if things didn’t work out the way we think they might…It’s not something I think I could survive.”
My heart pounds harsher against my ribcage causing my argument to be airy, “Yeah, well, I don’t think I can survive not taking that risk when I know we both want more.”
His stare retreats from mine, dropping to his sock covered feet.
Realizing what I’ve done, how far I’ve pushed, how right yet incredibly wrong I was leads to me briefly shutting my eyes again. I squeeze them tight to banish the idea of crying from a different type of lost love and stomp down the lump of sadness swelling in my throat.
We both knew the shit was a long shot. It’s fine. It’ll be fine. I’ll cry into a book in the bubble bath later and um…I don’t know. Guess give Dr. Perfect a chance? I’ve already done the whole significant other who works too much thing. It’ll be like riding a bike. Hm. Perhaps I’ll pick out Duck on a Bike for him to add to his collection on our next date.
“I’m being dramatic,” I mutter to myself, opening my eyes, although I don’t meet his. “Forget I said anything. Let’s just um…Let’s just go back to-”
Warm lips are unexpectedly smashed on mine exchanging whatever the end of the sentence was planned to be for a soft whimper. The impact alone is moan worthy, yet the first swipe of his tongue against mine has me practically muffled screaming. Instead of focusing on getting it together and acting as though I’ve been kissed before – because I really have been – I lose myself to the aggressive strokes. Clutch onto the edge of his tee and succumb to the desperate and wild whirling. Surrender to the way one large palm is wrapped possessively around the nape of my neck while the other is helping itself to a handful of my ass. My body is pitilessly pulled to him and pinned there as I’m redirected backwards towards the island where our coffee mugs are waiting to be filled. Bumping into the edge should break his hold; however, the opposite occurs. It deepens. His mouth…my mouth…both open wider and grow more determined to devour the other. To taste every single drop, we’ve denied ourselves to have for weeks. In spite of logically knowing we should slow things down, I hastily do the opposite. I chase his restless tongue around. Instantly submit whenever it demands. Whine when it draws away. Allow the hand cupping my backside to slide down the side of my thigh and hoist that leg around him. Wetness steadily soaks the thin fabric of my pajama bottoms pushing me to grind myself against him and wordlessly beg to have them be yanked down.
Turned around.
Taken from behind – a position that I’ve never experienced but wanted to.
Two fingers curl around the edge of his sleep pants prompting him to pull back and pant, “Wait.”
Is he serious right now? I’m wetter than a fucking Slip 'N Slide, and he wants to stop?!
Through chopped breathing, I ask, “Did I do something wrong?”
“Fuck. No.” A small nip is stolen of my bottom lip. “Sweetheart, you and wrong don’t even belong in the same goddamn sentence.”
I smirk and prepare to tip my lips back towards his.
“No.” The word sounds as painful leaving his lips as it does hitting my ears. “We gotta stop.”
“But we just started.”
“Yeah, but if I don’t walk the fuck away right now and go take a cold shower, the only mission on my mind will be doing everything possible to have you coming from this moment until first thing tomorrow, and I only say that because I know we gotta stop for me to make you coffee and you to go to work.”
Holy shit, talk about endurance! Can my nether regions handle that? Can yours?!
I poorly swallow the urge to whimper over the idea of a sex-filled day. “And that’s bad?”
A fierce, sexual groan I absolutely need to hear more of instantly falls from his mouth. “Not bad, sweetheart.” His mouth lightly teases mine. “So far from fucking bad.” Before my tongue can successfully touch his, he adds, “Now’s just not the time.”
My pussy clenches in objection.
Outrage.
Mutiny.
Not pouting suddenly becomes the most impossible action I can think of. “Don’t I get a say in that?!”
Archer’s answer is smug and blunt. “No.”
The squeak of irritation that escapes receives an arrogant chortle alongside the lowering of my leg. More salacious snickers slip loose as that same hand gently glides itself up the back of my thigh to settle comfortably on my cheek once more. I immediately beam brighter at the cupping and bite my bottom lip in anticipation for what’s next.