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 thought you left because you were afraid to let me in. You did tell me pretty much exactly that.”
“I also said I have a life here and that it needed me.”
“You did say that, yes.”
He nuzzles my nose with his and rubs his cheek against mine, burning me with his nine o’clock stubble because, holy camel toe, I mean, not the toe. Oh my goodness, not the toe. I’m not sure why that was the first thing that came to my mind.
I turn my face back to him. Even though I like the burn of his cheek against my face, I like the burn of his lips more. He gives me exactly what I want. His hand spans my lower back, holding me steady while his other hand cups my face to tilt my head back so that he can go for a deep kiss that I feel all the way down to my toes. Orion knows what he’s doing. He’s a great kisser. If I could kiss him for eternity, I’d feel like the luckiest person alive.
Wait, what? I was running away. I was running away from him, from this. I was running away from ever getting overly attached to someone who might be entrenched in my life enough to destroy me from the inside out again.
His hand slides down a few inches and tentatively moves down to my bottom. I rock on my tiptoes and moan against his lips, giving him the green light that, yes, bottom touching is okay. And no, I’m not going to bag him in the balls for it. I’m not sure he’s using the correct terminology there, but I have to say I like it.
I let him take me to another plane of existence with his kiss and his hand on my bottom. Also, with his tongue in my mouth, his lips devouring mine, and his face scraping and scratching deliciously against my smooth skin. I let him rock against me, or maybe it’s me rocking against him, but either way, we end up jammed together, and I let it happen. More than just letting it happen, I enjoy it.
Right from the start, from that night in Vegas, there was an attraction, a chemistry, a…something pulling us together that I didn’t try very hard to fight. I was drunk, but if I had been sober, would I have done anything differently? I wouldn’t have married him, but would I have gotten his number? Would I have called it? Would I have seen him again if he answered?
Anyway, we’re here now, and I’m answering the call of my own body.
I love the way Orion kisses me, urging my lips apart and thrusting his tongue into my mouth all over again like it’s the first time, just to have the pleasure of it yet again. There are shivers going ballistic in my body. They’re not contained to my legs, chest, spine, or vajayjay. All those parts of my body are responding—oh, my nipples too—and they’re responding big time. Every single inch of me is coming alive.
It makes me grind my hips against him, searching for that hard bulge in his jeans, and when I find it, I throw my head back and let out a moan. He chases my lips, kissing me until I can’t breathe, can’t speak, can’t think, and can barely stand up. He’s got me. He’s holding onto me. I know he’s not going to let me hit the floor, but if he did, I’d probably be okay with it as long as he followed and landed right on top of me so I would be able to keep rocking against him like this.
That bulge in his jeans is doing crazy things to me. It’s contained by the denim of his jeans, trapped and not obvious, but I can still feel how long and thick he is, and it’s doing crazy things to me. I want to uncage the beast.
For the love of chocolate chip cookies, you did not just go there.
“Make me want to stay,” I whisper brokenly as I tear my mouth from his. “Make me want to leave here. Make me understand that reason and responsibility aren’t always the best way to live. Make me want to take a chance on being totally crazy.”
“I think it’s quite sane, actually. Other people might not think so, but I do.”
“I can’t leave Mrs. Johnson,” I say thickly, swallowing down that terrible lump in my throat.
He shakes his head and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear so tenderly that my ovaries immediately turn into a ball of flames that need fanning out. No, you don’t fan flames unless you want to make them worse. You smother them with something that won’t catch on fire. This fire is hot enough to catch on anything, non-flammable or not.