Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
“Did she get in trouble?” Mazzy asks.
I turn off the truck and glance over at her. She looks fucking stunning with her eyes all glimmering from laughter, face flushed from the wine. “Oh yeah… got in big trouble with my parents but if you ask her, to this day, what her greatest accomplishment in life was, she’ll point back to that and say it was in the top five.”
“I love her,” Mazzy exclaims.
“I’m sure you’ll meet her soon. She’ll come to some home games when her schedule allows, as will my parents.”
Marisol is an international flight attendant and my parents are professional speakers who travel the country talking about leadership, customer service and organizational performance.
Mazzy grabs the truck handle, swings the door open and slides free. I note the slight, tipsy bobble in her step, but she manages to meet me around the front and I follow her up the few short stairs into the kitchen.
We had decided prior to our date that she was going to stay at the house tonight because I have an early workout scheduled with some of my teammates. It’s why I picked her up at her bedroom door although I plan to bestow a good-night kiss no farther than the base of the stairs.
Mazzy precedes me in and I chuckle when she dumps her purse on the counter before leaning against it to remove first one high heel, then the next.
She sighs in relief as she sinks down to the tile floor, giving me a playful smile. “So happy to have those off my feet.”
“Those shoes look like they’d hurt,” I muse as I drop my keys and phone next to her purse.
“Oh, they don’t hurt,” she says with a tinkling laugh. “They’re just hard to walk in when I have a buzz.”
I shrug out of my suit jacket, placing it across one of the stools, and give her a mocking smirk. “I didn’t know you were such a lightweight.”
“Never been a big drinker,” she replies, turning to face me with her arm resting on the countertop. No more than a foot separates us, and she has to tip her head back to maintain eye contact. “But I can resoundingly say I like the way two glasses of wine makes me feel.”
The way she’s staring at me with her eyes full of mischief emboldens me. “Feel good enough to let me kiss you?”
“Pick back up where we started in your bathroom?”
She moves a few inches closer and I don’t feel an ounce of remorse when my eyes stray down past her face to her cleavage. I’d managed to ignore it all night as the conversation was so good, but right now?
It’s distracting.
“Minus the cut finger,” I murmur, moving my hand to brush her hair behind her ear, for no other reason than I want to touch her.
“This is it, huh?” Her voice is breathy and expectant.
“Unless you tell me no.”
“Not going to tell you no.”
“Then I’m going to kiss you,” I promise.
For a moment, we just stare at each other. Mazzy waits for me to make the move. I’m trying to figure out the best way to kiss her.
Ultimately, I opt to slide my fingers along the side of her neck, curling them around the back. It lets that gorgeous fall of hair glide against my skin.
Mazzy gasps at the gesture, which is not just intimate, but slightly possessive when I give a light squeeze.
Dipping my head, I brush my lips across hers—nothing more substantive than a ghost’s touch. Mazzy’s breath mingles with mine and my heart pounds. I lift my head just enough so I can see her expression. Her eyes are closed but they flutter open, a mesmerizing blend of nerves and excitement swirling in those green depths.
I kiss her again and this time when our lips touch, I feel a surge of warmth, a profound connection that sends a shiver down my spine. Mazzy’s mouth opens to mine with the barest of tentative pressure from me and I begin a slow exploration.
Mazzy makes a tiny sound in the back of her throat, and I could be reading into it, but it sounds needy.
I’m electrified by her reaction and deepen the kiss by sliding my other arm around her back. I pull her into my body and her hands go to the nape of my neck. Without shame, she presses against me, and my body instantly reacts.
That means I need to slow the fuck down because this is just supposed to be an end-of-first-date kiss and I don’t want Mazzy to see—rather feel—how much she’s turning me on.
I try to disengage but she doesn’t let me pull away. Her hands tighten and she takes control of the kiss, her tongue swiping aggressively against mine. There’s no stopping the groan she pulls from deep within me.