Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“Yeah,” I answer him softly. Other couples are now on the dance floor, and we’re no longer the only ones.
“You may not want to do that.”
Confused, I look up at him. “Do what?”
He leans down and places a feathery kiss on the tip of my nose. “Touch me like that.”
I don’t stop. I press my nails into his back and move them up and down. “What, that?”
He moans low in my ear. “Yeah, that.”
I smile as his heart races under my cheek. “Why? It sounds like you might be enjoying it.”
It feels good to tease him, and I press my fingers harder into his back with big strokes.
His hands go to my hips, and he pulls me flush against him. “That’s why. Do you feel that? I’ve been fighting that hard-on since I came in my hand last night watching you in the window. I’m trying to be a gentleman, Avery. But having you in my arms like this, touching me, well, I’m about to throw all my good intentions out the window.”
I still can’t believe it. Me, the curvy, plump girl that can barely talk to guys seems to have this one hook, line and sinker. His manhood is hard, digging into my hip, but I don’t try to move back. No, I push my hips farther against his. “Do you think you can take me home, Lincoln?”
He stops moving his feet and looks at me questioningly. “To my house?”
Please, let me be making the right decision. “I’d like to go to your house.”
He leans down and kisses me before turning me around, and he guides me toward the front door. He doesn’t even stop and say anything to the Sizemores; he merely waves at them and calls Thank you and Merry Christmas across the room as we go.
As soon as we get outside, I tremble in the night air. I didn’t wear a sweater or jacket because nothing I had went with the dress. Before I get down the front steps, Lincoln has his jacket off and is putting it over my shoulders. I bundle into its warmth and inhale the smell of him. “Thank you.”
The valet gets the car, and we’re in it, driving toward Whiskey Run before I even have a chance to second-guess myself.
When we’re on the stretch of highway, Lincoln points at the glovebox. “Open that.”
I do as he asks, and there’s a small box, wrapped in Christmas paper. I pull it out and look at the label that says Avery. “Lincoln, is this for me? How? I mean when?”
“I saw them at the mall today and knew they were perfect for you.”
I don’t hesitate and start tearing the paper and opening the lid of the little box. A pair of diamond earrings are sparkling under the interior light he just flipped on. “Lincoln,” I gasp.
“Do you like them?”
“Like them? I love them, but I can’t accept these. They’re too expensive. I didn’t need a gift. Just spending time with you is gift enough.”
“I want you to have them. Put them on.”
Already, I know better than to argue with him. Not on something like this. I take the earrings out and put them on my ears. I flip down the visor, and the little light comes on. I turn my head side to side, and I can’t believe how big they are. “They’re beautiful, Lincoln. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he says, and I can hear the pleased sound of his voice.
I close the visor and stare out the window. I didn’t get him anything today, and now I feel bad. And it’s not like I can go out now and get him anything.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
I look over at him. He’s rolled his dress shirt up his forearms, and he’s clenching the steering wheel. He’s waiting for me to answer, and it’s obvious that he really cares. I’ve never, ever had anyone care about my thoughts like he does. “I didn’t get you anything.”
He shakes his head and turns off the road that leads to Whiskey Run. We’re almost home, and instead of being nervous about what might happen when we get there, I’m excited. “I didn’t expect you to get me anything.”
I nod and reach across the console and rest my hand on his thigh. I stroke my hand up and down and take a deep breath. “I want you, Linc. I want you to be my first.”
He looks at me, and the car swerves, and when we hit a bump, he pulls the wheel to get us back on the road. I put one hand on the dash and barely hold in the scream. He presses on the gas and pulls into his driveway almost on two wheels. He slams the SUV into park before we’re fully stopped.
I’m sitting here, mouth hanging wide open, and he jumps out and is moving around to my side of the car. He helps me out and lifts me, carrying me up his porch. I can’t help but laugh. He doesn’t smirk, he doesn’t say anything until he has me inside and the front door shut behind us. “I want you.”