Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 83211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Banks’s words tumble through my head as I gather the bottom of Damaris’s dress so it doesn’t drag on the ground. I don’t know what he really means by that.
“I don’t want this to be it between us. I want this to be a part of it.”
The intensity in his eyes make me believe that he means it in a non-sexual kind of way—like he wants to start building something that looks very un-friends-with-benefits-like.
The anticipation swells in my stomach, perspiration dotting my skin despite the air-conditioning blowing from the vent in the floor.
Don’t overthink it yet, Sara. Enjoy it first.
Banks comes around the corner. His dimple settles deep in his cheek.
I’m so gonna enjoy this.
He crooks his finger. “Come here.”
I don’t know whether it’s the words, the fire in his eyes, or the coy smile on his lips, but it causes the tangle in my stomach to explode. His grin gets wider as I move quicker and, by the time I’m in front of him, I’m panting.
He grips my hips as soon as I reach him. Like a choreographed dance that we’ve done before, I jump as he lifts me. My legs wrap around his waist. The dress bunches at my hips, the thin straps sliding down my arms. The dress wants off me too.
My anticipation melts into excitement, and I giggle as his mouth crashes against mine. My fingers comb through his messy hair before cupping his face. His stubble scratches against my palms as I hold his face to me.
He groans as I nibble his bottom lip moments before he turns toward the living room. His fingers dig into my ass as he holds me, pressing me against him.
“I should’ve grabbed a shower,” Banks says between kisses. He drops to the couch, bringing me with him. “I didn’t plan this very well.”
I straddle his lap, rocking my opening against his crotch. Between the hardness and the scratching of the denim against my swollen flesh, I could come from this alone.
“Do you plan anything very well?” I ask, laughing.
He cinches my waist with his hands as I grind against him. “Yes, I do, actually. I can plan the hell out of avoiding moving furniture.”
“I call bullshit.”
He groans, flexing against me as I slip my arms out of the dress straps. The top stays up and barely covers my chest.
“You were quick to jump when Ashley needed your help,” I say, pulling my hair to the top of my head and securing it with a tie from my wrist.
He rests his head on the cushion and looks up at me with his blue eyes blazing. “That was a special situation.”
I stop moving. “Is that so?”
He guides my hips in a circle. “Someone was already attached to that particular furniture-moving adventure.”
“I thought you hated that particular someone.”
He grins, and it obliterates anything not melted in my core. How can a man be equal parts sexy and adorable?
Banks slides his hands against my clavicle and then up the sides of my neck. His thumbs press just behind my ears and his calloused hands wrap around the back of my head. He grins as I raise onto my knees to kiss him.
I hold his shoulders, feeling the thick muscles under my palms. He kisses me lazily, sweetly—as if each stroke of his tongue or pressing of his lips is intentional. It’s as if he’s trying to tell me that this isn’t about the result as much as it’s about the moment. The experience. The act of whatever it is that we’re doing.
Because this isn’t fucking. This is something else entirely, and the terrifying thing is that I don’t hate it. At all.
He drags his fingertips down my arms, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind. He lifts the dress and slides his hands under the fabric. I hold my breath as his tongue pulls across my bottom lip, and he grabs my ass cheeks again.
“Fuck,” he mutters against my lips. He pulls away, his eyes wild. “Tell me. Did you have anything on under my shirt last night or were you like this?” He squeezes me again.
I look down at him, grinning mischievously. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
He chuckles. “I’m not sure if not knowing last night was a good thing or a bad thing.”
“Depends on the outcome you wanted, I suppose,” I say, running my hands through his hair. “After listening to you last night, I think you got the one you wanted. So it was a good thing, I think. For you, anyway.”
He rolls his eyes. “Why is everything that’s good for you always kinda painful?”
I giggle, leaning back.
His hands slide around my thighs until his thumbs are on either side of my slit.
The room wobbles, and I hold on tight to his shoulders to keep steady. “Like what?”
“Oh, like when you order pizza and the cheese is really goopy and melty. That’s when it’s the best, but it’ll also burn the hell out of you.”