Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
“How long do you think it’ll take?” I ask.
He rubs his jaw and studies the car. “I’m hoping we can finish it in time for college in the fall.”
“Wow,” I breathe out. “That’s quite a present. I can’t believe you went to so much trouble.”
“It’s not trouble when it comes to you.” The concern in his eyes shifts to something a bit happier. “It’s in better shape than it looks.” He runs his gaze over the blue rear panel. “Vapor can do the paint and bodywork. You and I will do the rest.”
“This is the gift that keeps on giving.” I can already picture us working side by side in the evenings, slowly bringing the car back to life.
“Because we’ll be constantly working on it?” he asks.
“No, because I’ll get to spend more time with you.” I don’t know how to explain to him that it’s about more than the car. It’s something for just the two of us, separate from his friendship with my brother. A start to this chapter of our lives as a couple. Rebuilding this car with him feels like a symbol of the new direction our relationship has taken.
“I can’t wait.” He leans in and brushes a gentle kiss against my cheek. “You like it?”
“I love it.”
He settles his hand on my waist. “You’ll need to wear a little more to work in here with me.”
A volatile concoction of love and desire explodes inside me. “I thought you liked my dress.”
He drops his gaze to my shoulders, then my chest. I hold my breath while he lifts his hand and skims his knuckles over the tops of my breasts. A trail of tingles follows his touch. “I like it very much.”
He’s so close, his intoxicating scent swirls around me. Smoke from the grill, a hint of fuel from the racetrack, and sweat from spending the day in the sun—all mixed with something unique to Griff.
He dips his head and crashes his lips to mine. It’s not the sweet, soft, gentle kiss of before. He’s demanding. Intense. He slides his hands into my hair, tilting my head back as he deepens our kiss.
Yes, yes, yes! This is what I’ve wanted all day, every day for the last two-thousand-nine-hundred-and-ninety days of my life. Give or take.
I open my mouth and hook my fingers in the belt loops of his jeans, inviting him closer.
He groans low in his throat and pulls back. “I’ve wanted to do this all day.”
“Me too.” A relentless throbbing shoots straight to my center. I rock sideways in my boots.
Griff frowns. “Are your feet okay?”
“Huh?”
Before I have a chance to remember what feet are or that I have two of them attached to my body, he kisses me again. He slides his hands over my hips and lower, bunching my dress in his fingers and dragging it up.
He bends at the knees and lifts me as if I weigh nothing. “Wrap your legs around me,” he demands, kissing my jawline and then my neck. Eagerly, I hug my knees to his hips and curl my arms around his neck. Primal instinct has me writhing against his body. He’s hard behind his jeans.
He only takes a few steps. My butt hits the hard metal hood and I brace my feet on the bumper. He slides one hand under my dress, dragging it over the outside of my thigh. “You’re so soft everywhere,” he whispers.
Bathing myself in the appreciation shining in his eyes, I lie back against the hood and stretch my arms over my head against the cool glass of the windshield. “Look. No hood scoop in my way.”
“Molly,” he groans. He bends and half-climbs onto the hood with me. The metal thumps under our weight. He braces himself over me, his broad, hard, sturdy body pressing into my softer, smaller one. “What do you want?” he asks.
“Touch me.”
He strokes his fingers against my thigh. “I am touching you.”
I reach for him, hooking my arm around his neck and dragging him closer. He answers with a searing kiss. My blood pounds through my ears. I slide my foot along the fender, opening my legs.
Griff groans against my neck and kisses a path to my breasts. I raise myself a few inches. “Zipper. In the back.”
Between my hair being in the way and the awkward angle we’re splayed in on the car, it takes a few quick jerks to lower the zipper enough that I can push the straps of my dress off my shoulders, baring my sheer purple bra.
“Your bra matches your dress.” He cups one of my breasts with his hand, leans down, and sucks my nipple through the thin material.
“Oh God,” I gasp, as sparks fly over my skin.
He releases my nipple and blows air over the damp tip.
“Griff.” I moan his name and work one bra strap off my shoulder, then the other, baring myself to him completely.