Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
“Are you planning to feed me more of that bullshit about you and Alec being madly in love?” He drops his hand, staring unblinkingly into my eyes. “Because I’m not buying it. Either it’s total bullshit and you’re both liars, or you’re leading him on.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He might be in love with you, but you’re not in love with him. I’ve seen you in love. Alec’s family might fall for that shit, but I know better.”
My stomach flips. I need to get through today for Alec and then talk to him about telling Oliver the truth—decide if I even want Oliver knowing the truth. Maybe I don’t need to tell him. He’ll figure it out eventually—when there’s no wedding, when Alec and I are never together at family functions.
Oliver’s suddenly closer somehow, too close—and the self-preservation part of my brain tells me it’s time to put space between us again. But I don’t. Because today, when I’m feeling so lonely and sad, when I’ve seen the best and worst of his family and had to say goodbye to my dreams, I want to stay right here. Close to him.
“Oliver,” I whisper. Maybe I’m delirious from lack of sleep or maybe it’s because I know exactly how it feels to be that alone in the world, but I place my hand on his chest. His heart pounds beneath my palm. His breath hitches at my touch. I didn’t realize—didn’t let myself realize—how much I missed him. Not just the crazy fun we always had together, but him. The way his closeness wrapped me in a warmth I could never understand, the way I never felt alone when he was close.
He wraps his long fingers around my wrist but doesn’t move my hand from his chest. Instead, he brushes his thumb across my pulse point. We stare at each other for a long time like that, feeling the beat of each other’s heart until they pound in time.
He closes his eyes and touches his forehead to mine, exhaling. “I’m going to kiss you now, Savannah.”
I tilt my mouth up to his, and he takes it, sucking my bottom lip between his teeth and biting gently before sliding his tongue against mine. I moan, and he growls into the kiss, angling his head and tugging on my hair.
He tastes like memories and regret. If I were smart, I’d back away now. If I were smart, I’d push him out the door and forget this happened.
But when it comes to Oliver Rhett, I’ve always been more foolish than wise.
“Fuck, I missed this mouth,” he says, sliding his fingers down between my breasts as his other hand unzips my dress. His mouth is a beat behind his hands. He trails hot, open-mouthed kisses between my breasts and over my stomach.
The dress falls to my feet, and I’m standing there in nothing but a lace bra and matching panties. And my heels.
Oliver’s hands roam, cupping my breasts before his mouth trails back up to have a turn. He parts his lips over my nipple, making it pucker through the lace before sucking hard.
I cry out, my hands in his hair. I tug and bring him back up to my mouth. This kiss is softer, but his grip on my hip is anything but. It’s a possessive squeeze, a hungry claiming. You were always mine, his hands say. And I was always yours.
He traces the waistband of my panties with one knuckle, his breath against my lips. “Ever since I saw you in that fucking trench coat, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about getting my mouth on you again.”
I shiver, lust turning my blood to liquid fire. Every nerve ending is a live wire, waiting for his touch.
He nudges me back until the backs of my thighs hit the vanity. He lifts me onto it by my hips, and I spread my thighs and grab his shirt to pull him closer.
Oliver smiles against my mouth. “You still scream when you come?” he asks. He slides one hand between our bodies and cups me, pressing into my clit with his palm. “Fuck, you’re wet. So wet. You’ve been thinking about this as much as I have.”
I don’t want to admit it, but to deny it would be an outright lie. I shut him up with a kiss, and with his mouth on mine, he deftly unclasps my bra and slips my panties from my hips.
Without warning, he tears his mouth from mine and drops to his knees. He uses his palm to spread me open and stares for a long beat before licking up the center of me. I clench my thighs, trying to squeeze them together to capture the sensation, but he holds me open as he does it again. His tongue flicks over my clit again and again, and I gasp as pleasure coils tight in me. “Please.”