Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
I want to kiss him again. Is it a good idea? No. Was getting married in Vegas a good idea? No. Am I sober now? Yes. Am I in control of myself now? Yes. Should I shut this down for good? Yes. Should I get my shit packed and my ass on a plane and get back a safe distance across the country to the life I’ve tried so hard to carve out for myself just to prove I could do so much more than survive? Absolutely.
I’m going to do that. I’m certainly going to do that. Right now, though? Would it really hurt if we had one last kiss just for the sake of closure and as a goodbye? It’s not going to change my mind. I’ve already made my decision. It would just be one for the memory books, and maybe, just maybe, that wouldn’t be so wrong. At least I wouldn’t have to file this chance away as a missed opportunity and regret it for the rest of my life. That would be lame.
Go for it. What do you have to lose? It would be nice to feel like a woman, just for a few minutes. Kiss him. Your fantasy touch-yourself-later material is at an all-time low. The kiss would hold you for weeks. Months. Maybe even years.
He’s still looking at me, still focused on my lips, still unblinking.
Fuck it. I’m doing this.
I step across the treehouse, grasp his T-shirt in both my fists, and haul him to me. He’s already moving on his own, guiding that perfect manly mouth to me, so we meet with more force than I thought we would, but it’s perfect.
It’s so, so perfect.
CHAPTER 9
Orion
I’m not sure this is such a good idea. Actually, I’d bet my left nut that this is very, very bad, but shit. I don’t want to stop. I don’t want to stop, and neither does Echo. She’s the one who stepped forward, who grabbed me. She sunk both hands into my T-shirt and wrenched me up against her, which was more of her wrenching herself up against me because I’m a bit of a tree trunk, and she’s much smaller. Gravity is kind of a bitch that way, but whatever the semantics are, we’re now pressed up against each other, and my lips are on hers, and she’s perfect. Her body, her curves, her warmth, the way she’s bumping against the bulge in my jeans, and her little moans of pleasure as I plunder her delicious, cherry-red mouth.
She’s cherries alright, but sweeter than any one of Granny’s favorite pies.
She’s not stiff or unyielding or holding out against me right now. Right now, she’s melted ice cream on top of cherry pie. Her one arm moves to wrap around my neck, and it makes her body arch a little bit harder into me. Her breasts press into my chest, and her curves hit all my hard points and just…fuck.
My heart is slamming hard in my chest. I have no idea where to go from here. I have no idea how far to take things. Should I stop? Stopping seems like a smart thing to do, but also a very, very stupid thing, and I’d like to think of myself as a smart man at least some of the time.
I know she came to me, and it was willingly, all on her own. She wants this. She wants me. And damn, if that doesn’t blow my mind and rock my world. I can’t help it. I wrap my arms around her and hold onto her tightly while she tips her face back and gives me better access to kiss the hell out of her.
We have to come up to breathe sometime, and we do it panting like we just swam half the length of the ocean in stormy weather. “Oh my god, I like it when you hug me,” she pants. “I shouldn’t, but I…I do. You have nice arms. Nice and muscly. They’re warm and not too hairy.”
I crack a grin. “On the list of requirements for arms, I didn’t realize not too hairy was a thing. What if they were furiously hairy? Like hairy as a bear in hibernation hairy? Or hairy as though I haven’t shaved my legs in six hundred and eighty-eight days hairy?”
“I guess they’d be your arms, so they’d still be alright. Like, how long would the hair be? Because if it could walk across the room doing a handstand, but it would be an arm hair stand, then that might be a bit much.”
“That’s hot. And fascinating. And cool. Can I kiss you again?”
“I know I should say no. You kissing me isn’t going to keep me from leaving. I have to leave. You know that, right?”
“I do. I…I guess I do. But you could stay if you wanted to.”