Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 145634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
I'm chewing on my bottom lip again while he stares at me with those pale blue eyes.
“Hey,” he says as he leans over and tugs my bottom lip free from my teeth with his thumb. “Trust me, it’ll be okay.” He’s so close, too fucking close. The leather sofa groans as he runs the rough pad of his thumb along my bottom lip. He’s telling me it’ll be okay, but he doesn’t realize what this means to me.
I can’t move. I can’t breathe. He’s staring at my lips, and I want him to kiss me. But he doesn’t. Instead he moves away from me, and I instantly miss his touch.
I’d do anything to get it back.
I’m going to do bad things tonight. I can feel it. But it'll be with him.
And I really fucking want to. All those reasons I shouldn’t smoke go right out the window.
My eyes meet his. “I've never smoked before. I don't know how to,” I confess nervously.
He shrugs casually, lighting the blunt and suggests, “Just shotgun it?”
“I don't even know what that means.” I pull my knees into my chest and watch as he lights the end and breathes in the blunt; the tip burns to life. “God, I'm so sheltered,” I moan and bury my face in my knees. I'm so embarrassed. I sound like such a loser. I tuck my hair behind my ears and look back at him. I want him. No one can blame me for that.
Derek’s always had a piece of my heart, and I’m not willing to tell him no.
“That's not a bad thing. Shot gunning’s easy.” He scoots closer to me, so close the smell of his cologne is stronger than the pot. “I promise. I'll take a hit and then blow it into your mouth.”
My heart quickens thinking about his lips on mine again. I find myself staring at his lips. I nod my head slightly. The vision of him leaning over me with his hand on my hips makes me eager to accept.
“Okay, I'll try it,” I answer quickly.
He takes a quick hit, then blows it out. I feel myself pout slightly and he laughs at me, a deep sexy sound that makes me scoot a little closer to him, so my side brushes up against his. “Ready?” he asks, cocking a brow at me.
This is stupid and not going to end well. But I want to do it so badly. I want to be bad for him.
I nod my head, not trusting my voice. I'm so nervous.
He takes a long inhale of the blunt and leans in toward me. Our lips touch ever so softly. I spear my hand through his hair and wrap the other around his neck, taking advantage, but I don’t give a fuck. God, he feels so strong and warm. He feels so right. He leans into me, just like I imagined. I wish he’d push further and lay me back on the sofa. The same feelings from all those years ago flow through me as I tilt my head back, breathing in deep and holding the smoke in.
He blows the smoke from his lungs into my mouth, cupping the back of my head and leaning into me. The smoke tastes sweet in my mouth. But it’s his touch that makes it all worth it. I try to suck it down and hold it. I roll onto my side and away from his embrace as I feel a cough coming on.
Fuck! The smoke burns in my lungs. Holy fuck! It’s painful! Why do people do this?
I lie over on my side of the sofa, coughing and covering my mouth. I feel like such an idiot. As much as I'm coughing though, I can't stop smiling. I feel the blush returning to my cheeks. I cover my mouth again and sit upright, feeling foolish and naive.
The smoke hurts, but it was worth it.
“Come here,” he says softly, wrapping his muscular arms around my waist and pulling me into his lap. I’m not about to say no. He puts his lips to mine and breathes into my mouth again. I take the hit, feeling his strong hands gripping my hips to keep me in place.
This is so wrong. So bad. But I want it.
This time I don’t cough as much, and I only move my head to the side when I do. He takes the chance to kiss my neck.
Fuck. Yes!
I take a moment to just breathe, feeling almost winded. I’m lightheaded from his touch or the blunt, I don’t know which.
He takes another puff of the blunt, leaning away from me and then putting it out on the ashtray on the end table.
He blows out easily as I finally sit up.
“How was that?” he asks, smiling at me.
“That was great,” I answer somewhat sarcastically, my voice gravelly from coughing. I scoot closer into his lap though, eager for more of his touch even though the shotgun session is over.