Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76470 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76470 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“Water Babies?” I snort. “Really?”
“It’s a nostalgia thing. My mom always used it on me growing up, so it makes me think of my childhood and summer days at the city pool.”
It’s funny—the night we met, we exchanged unpopular opinions, painful truths, and everything in between. For the first time in my thirty years, I felt I was truly connecting with someone . . . and like a pathetic sap, I told her that.
We spent three full days together when it was all said and done, but from the moment we met at that sticky nightclub with the terrible music, I felt like I’d known her my entire life.
I’d never believed in soulmates until she waltzed into my life and left glitter everywhere.
Now she’s about to marry my brother, and we’re talking about sunscreen and acting like the giant elephant in the room is invisible.
Sliding my sunglasses off the top of my head and onto my nose, I turn to leave.
“So that’s it?” she calls from behind me. “You’re just going to make fun of my sunscreen and walk away?”
Facing her again, I rest my hands on my hips, my fingertips digging into my flesh.
Of all the things I could say right now, only one of them needs to be said.
“I would’ve waited for you,” I tell her. “And I was. I was waiting for you.”
Then I leave.
This time, she doesn’t call after me.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
BRIAR
One Year Ago
It occurs to me as Dorian’s hands are in my hair and his mouth is claiming mine and his hardness is pressing against my inner thighs that making out with a hot stranger on a Caribbean beach must be the most cliché yet pivotal moment of my life.
I would never do something like this back home.
Mere hours ago, I knew nothing about this man except that he didn’t want to be here, but over the course of the night, I’ve bared my soul to him in ways I never have with anyone else before. At times, there was so much tension between us I thought I was going to burst, tension that subsided only when I convinced myself I was imagining it.
I told myself that the pull I felt between us was all in my head.
After that, I rationalized that it was the alcohol doing the talking.
And then he kissed me.
And then he kissed me again.
And now my lips are so swollen I can hardly feel them, but stopping now would be painful in every sense of the word.
Dorian’s lips trail down the side of my neck, pressing hotly against my flesh, before abandoning it for the next unexplored section. The sugar-soft sand beneath me cradles us while a few yards away the ocean waves lap against the shore.
Tugging on his shirt, I pull it over his head, exposing the smooth landscape of his muscled chest and shoulders.
An electric thrill zips through me, followed by an anticipatory surge between my thighs.
“I want you inside me,” I whisper against his ear.
He stops, his eyes finding mine under the moonlit sky.
Without a word, he rises, and I’m about to second-guess myself when he pulls me up by the hand and leads me to a nearby cabana where a double chaise longue has our proverbial names on it. Three of the four canvas sides are down, giving us privacy while maintaining the seaside view ahead.
“This okay?” he asks.
I nod. I’ve heard sex on the beach isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, but I’m grateful he didn’t say those exact words because the last thing I want to picture right now is Dorian hooking up with anyone else. Not that I’m the jealous type—I just want this moment to be unspoiled by reality . . . much like this night has been so far.
Dorian adjusts the backrest of the chaise before lying down and pulling me into his arms. I straddle him, hiking the hem of my dress above my hips.
He cradles my face, biting his bottom lip before looking like he’s two seconds from devouring me from head to toe.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” he says. “From the second I saw you, I wanted to know everything about you.”
“You don’t have to say that kind of stuff, you know . . .” I stop myself before I sound even more like a pick-me girl. With my palms against his chest, I lean in to taste his lips all over again.
“I know,” he says when he comes up for air. “I just thought you should know.”
My heart ricochets, and heat creeps through me. I’m usually the type to take my time, to enjoy all the courses one by one, but all I can think about is how badly I want to feel him in the deepest parts of me.
It’s an urgency unlike any I’ve known before.
Dorian slides the straps of my dress over my shoulders before pressing hot kisses down each of them. When he’s finished, he runs his fingertips along my inner thigh, stopping when he gets to my panties. Shoving the fabric aside, he plunges a single finger inside me.