Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 126589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“The cake I promised you a couple of weeks ago. And some samoosas and koesisters from Aunty Naz. Are all your sketches of me?” She determinedly brought the conversation back on point.
“Chocolate cake?” He steered it back to the food with equal determination.
“That’s what you asked for. Are they?”
“When did you get the snacks from Aunty Naz?”
“Just before coming here. Are the sketches all of me? Show me. Please.”
“Just let it go, okay? I’m not going to show you. And you constantly asking is aggravating the shit out of me.”
That made her pause and she sighed, feeling deflated and more than a little hurt.
“Aah, fuck,” he swore. His voice was brimming with a volatile combination of annoyance and remorse. “Don’t look at me like that. Christ.”
She slapped his precious sketch against his chest, then froze when the tips of her fingers made contact with his hot, naked chest. Her gaze dropped to where her hand was pushed up against his hard flesh, the paper sandwiched between her palm and his left nipple.
One of his big hands came up to cover hers, and their eyes entangled for a hot, brief moment, before he slowly—painstakingly—slid his hand over the top of hers, his fingers leaving licks of banked fire in their wake until he eventually took hold of the top edge of the sheet of paper and tugged it from beneath her palm. Sketch safely retrieved, he dropped his arm, which left her hand still pressed against his hot, bare flesh. His nipple went hard against her palm and she suppressed a groan and fought against the urge to stroke all that sumptuous, smooth skin beneath her hand.
“We can’t unspill the milk,” he muttered hoarsely, dipping his head to deliver the words directly into her ear. His lips brushed against the sensitive outer shell of her ear and she shuddered in response to the seductive touch.
His words were silly, but Beth knew exactly what he meant by them.
“Can’t undrop the ball,” she agreed, keeping her eyes averted while taking a minute step closer to that massive, perfect semi-nude body.
“Can’t unscrew the pooch.”
His eyes scorched into hers when she looked up at those ridiculous words. He ran a shaky finger up her naked arm and she shuddered in response to his touch, every nerve ending going on high alert. Her skin pebbled, her nipples beaded, and a heavy, insistent throb started up between her thighs.
“I like this dress,” he rasped, his finger threading around the thin spaghetti strap holding the simple slip dress up. “This color is so soft and pretty against your skin.”
“It’s just a dress,” she murmured. “I like your—” She paused, unable to reciprocate the compliment, acutely aware that he was wearing very, very little.
Her eyes flickered down the broad, tanned expanse of his beautiful chest, then down to those sexy sweatpants.
“Everything,” she concluded. “I like your everything.”
His lips parted, revealing even white teeth when he smiled. A warm, genuine, beautiful smile.
“My everything?” he whispered, his mouth hovering just above hers. She felt the wash of his breath against her lips and smelled a hint of toothpaste mingled with coffee on his breath. “Tell me more.”
“I-I…” Her stutter had nothing to do with her speech impediment and was all about how hot and flustered and—let’s face it—seriously turned on she was in this moment. “I can’t talk around you.”
The admission slipped out before she could stop it, and carried the weight of absolute truth behind it. He stole her poise, her willpower…her words.
And while, under normal circumstances she unquestionably resented him for that, right now she didn’t care.
“Well, we tend to fuck things up when we talk, so maybe we shouldn’t,” he suggested, while he backed her up against his kitchen counter. Beth was peripherally aware of the crumple of paper as he set the sketches down on the counter top behind her. He dropped a hand to one of her hips, and slid the other up to cup her jaw. His thumb brushed over her lower lip while his eyes were voraciously focused on her mouth.
“You’re so silky and luxurious,” he muttered, the words almost inaudible. “So easy to lose myself in all this sweet softness.”
Why was he still talking?
She opened her mouth to ask him that when his lips descended onto hers and he once again did what he did best—stole her words, taking a healthy portion of her sanity along with it. Only this time, Beth didn’t mind.
She was too focused on the scorching heat of his mouth on hers. His lips were gentle at first, testing, asking her if this was okay, if she wanted less…more.
And oh how she wanted more. She wanted everything he had to give.
All of it.
Chapter Nine
Her hands skimmed over his chest, tempted to linger, and explore the hard dips and planes of that beautiful expanse of flesh, bone, and muscle. But she had loftier ambitions right now. A different target in mind and she refused to be distracted by all the tempting perfection she found on the way to her destination of choice.