Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 103104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Seeing the head Shark jack off shouldn’t mean a thing. It shouldn’t!
It’s nothing, just nothing.
Yet it’s everything.
My pelvis gets warm, desire curling. Holding my breath, my hand plunges into my jeans, rubbing at the soft mound between my legs. My sensitive nipples pebble, as if he’s right here with me, touching them. What would his caress feel like? Soft or hard? I remember him under the bleachers. Wild. Hot. Intense.
Wiggling, I move lower, pushing at my jeans. Fire burns inside me when I slip my fingers under my panties and touch soaked skin, skating over my clit. A shuddering groan escapes my lips, and I freeze, coming back to reality when I sense a change in the air, a quiet tension replacing his sounds.
Did he leave? I didn’t hear the door open—
The curtain is ripped back and he looms over me, his throat working soundlessly as he rakes his eyes over me and stumbles back, falling on the floor.
“Ava! What…” He hurries up to his knees, his face horrified. “Shit, shit, shit, what are you doing in here!”
Embarrassment flares on my cheeks. I can imagine what I look like lying here in the tub, my hands inside my panties. “Same as you, apparently,” I mutter. I stand up shakily and try to maneuver over the rim of the bath, but I forget my pants are at my knees and I end up falling.
He springs then, moving to help me as I simultaneously tug at my clothes to get them back up. He wraps his arms around my waist to steady me, but we end up tumbling down on the tile with me on top. His chest presses against mine, and I’m barely keeping myself from melting, wanting to curl into him. His thick erection is between us, and my body throbs with something I’ve never had, for a sweet pinnacle, to feel that elusive release, and now—
“You can’t be in here with me,” he grinds out, his hands on my upper arms. His grip is hard enough to bruise, but I don’t care.
I wrench out of his grasp and reach out to his face. He thinks he’s ugly? Never.
I lick my lips as my hand falls to my side.
“Chance,” his voice scratches out raggedly. He looks shaken and a little wild, and it’s the most revealing emotion I’ve ever seen on his face.
“Why didn’t you say something when I came in?” He scrubs his face, scooting farther away from me, his back leaning against the door.
“Does it make me a voyeur to say I was enjoying the show? Most definitely a deviant.”
He shudders. “You don’t even like me. I frighten you.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
He tucks himself back into his underwear, wincing.
I bring my pants up and zip them. My heart thuds painfully, my movements jerky, unsatisfied.
Voices outside the door move him to action and he jumps to a stand with athletic grace, yanking his pants up. He goes back to the sink and splashes more water on his face.
“Get up, Ava. Get the fuck out.” He clings to the edge of the counter.
“Why were you staring at me out there?”
He stiffens. “I don’t have to answer your questions. Don’t you know who I am?”
“Screw you, head Shark. I want to know!”
“Stop yelling.”
“Then tell me. What’s going on with you?” With us.
I stand up. I’m brave—for now. I admit he makes me nervous, that darkness I sense in him, the opposite of Chance. “Did she suck your cock?”
I’m tormented by the image.
His eyes swirl with emotion as he glares at me in the reflection of the mirror.
“No,” is ripped from him.
“You want me.”
“No.”
“Liar.”
Silence reigns as he seethes, fighting something inside himself. He flips around and stalks over to me. “You belong to Chance.”
“I belong to myself!”
“Have you fucked him?” His hands clench.
“No!”
“You will. He loves you.” A pause as his jaw pops. “And he’s my best friend.” I eat up the expression on his face, so unused to seeing that vulnerability in his features.
“He hasn’t said so. He’s never asked me out for a real date, and I’ve never met his parents. I’m his little secret at school.” Oh, he’s been sweet, but he has yet to take me to dinner or the movies or ask me to come to the football parties with him. “I don’t fit in with your group.”
His chest rises.
“Break up with him.” His words are flat.
But I know he doesn’t mean break up with him so you can be with me, because if anything, I know that wouldn’t be Knox’s style. He cares about Chance and he’d never in a million years pick up where his best friend left off. Goes against everything he believes, I think. Loyalty pours out of every bunched-up, tense muscle in his body right now.
Shame washes over me. Dipping my head, I rub my eyes.