Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“Fitz.” His name leaves my chest as a plea while I rub myself along his erection.
Again, he takes my mouth, tongue acquainting itself with mine while his hands grip my hips. I pull away to breathe, and we stare at each other, exchanging labored breaths. I curse the flimsy material between us. “This is a little wrong,” I whisper with no conviction.
He lifts his hips again, drunken gaze, parted lips. “Jaymes, you’re my favorite kind of wrong. And I want to watch you come again.”
Dear god.
His throaty words could make that happen all on their own.
“Not again,” I say, refusing to let him have anything over me. But I can’t help but grin while discarding my shirt onto the floor behind me, leaving just the head of his erection beneath his shorts and briefs wedged between my legs.
“Again, and you know it.” He takes the weight of my breasts in his hands and teases them with his soft lips and warm tongue.
My lungs draw in a breath, readying my next comeback, but it dies before reaching my lips when he whispers over my breasts, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
Framing his face, I force his mouth back to mine, and I kiss him like he just called me fucking beautiful. Because surely Calvin Fitzgerald didn’t say those words to me.
When I raise to my knees, kissing him deeper, Fitz slides two fingers between my legs, drawing another moan from my chest.
My fingertips trace the burn scar on his chest.
Fitz thrusts those two fingers inside me, and I gasp.
His intense gaze holds mine while my quickening breaths fall over his face in the dimly lit room. He’s unequivocally the sexiest, most handsome man I’ve ever known. My heart and my head war over the physical and emotional sensations he evokes. I’m a discombobulated mess.
“Do you like when I’m inside of you?” He moves his fingers slowly in and out.
“Y-yes.”
He adds a third finger.
“G-god . . . damn . . .” My nails dig into his shoulders while my abs tighten.
“How far are we taking this, Jaymes?”
He’s controlled. Too controlled. His body commands mine in every way—the drunk lust in his eyes and his smoky tone.
It’s not fair.
“All the way.” I blink. It’s slow and heavy, like the need he’s building with his touch.
Keeping his steadfast gaze on mine, he withdraws his fingers and wipes them over my heaving chest. The hint of a grin quirks the corner of his mouth before that same mouth devours my breast, humming his pleasure while shimmying his shorts and briefs partway down his legs.
I lower myself, anxious to feel all of him, desperately hoping my heart doesn’t do the feeling. He drags the warm head of his erection between my legs several times before bucking his hips and driving inside me.
It’s too much. The fortress around my heart begins to crumble. He’s an earthquake—a force of nature. And I don’t stand a chance of surviving him.
Fitz grabs my butt with one hand and the blanket with his other and lays us on the sofa, kissing the life out of me. I think I could kiss him all night.
Unfortunately, I’m not supposed to kiss my roommate.
And I’m definitely not supposed to have sex with him.
“We’re going to be homeless,” I murmur while he kisses my neck.
Fitz chuckles, rocking his hips in a slow, firm rhythm. “Jaymes, it’s called keeping a secret.”
“What if—”
He cuts me off with another kiss, and I surrender my body and mind because Will and Maren are on the other side of the country, my BFF is passed out in the other room, and Calvin Fitzgerald is exactly where I’ve wanted him for weeks.
“This is your fault,” he mumbles, kissing his way down my body, trapping my nipple between his teeth before flicking it with his tongue.
I arch my back. “W-what?” I’m unsure if I heard him correctly because his touch is all consuming and dizzying.
“Touching me all the damn time.” He works his way back up my body.
“Goading me.” He thrusts back into me, and my breath catches in my throat.
“Getting off on me in my truck.” His hands tangle in my hair, and his mouth covers mine again before I can object to the blame he’s placing on me.
My hands wander along his body, because Calvin Fitzgerald has irresistible, finely sculpted muscles that tense and relax under my fingers as he moves with me. And I want to feel every inch of him. I can’t get enough.
After a deep, mind-bending kiss, my head jerks to the side so I can catch my breath for a second. “I’m com . . . I’m . . .” Each breath chases the next as I come undone beneath him.
“Of course you are,” he says, just as the legs of Melissa’s sofa decide to whine in protest of his vigorous movements.