Just One More Touch Read Online W. Winters, Willow Winters

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 145634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
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“So are you.”

Her mouth drops open in disbelief, and she has no fucking clue what it does to me. “I am not,” she says defensively, but she doesn’t realize she’s scooting closer.

“You like it, that makes you worse.” Her smile widens to a full-blown grin, but she merely licks her lower lip and doesn’t respond.

I tease her even more and say, “Maybe just bad for me? Is that it?”

Her fingers toy with the rim of her glass. “You are so bad.”

“Tell me you love it.” I give her the command, but I’d beg her to admit it to me. So I’ll know I’m not the only one of us that’s crazy for what we had. What we can have tonight.

“I won’t lie,” she says and shrugs. “I love it.”

“Say it.”

“I love how dirty you are.” The blush that creeps into her cheeks makes her look so innocent.

“Only for you.” The words leave me, and her sexy grin slips as my heart pounds and I turn to the alcohol.

“To your new job and your new place,” I say as I lift up my shot glass and wait for her to respond.

“You just want to get me drunk so you can fuck me.”

“I’ll be fucking you either way, Soph.” The comment comes from me without hesitation. I bite my tongue to keep from telling her that I’ll be punishing her too. She’s fucking mine.

“Is that what you think?” she asks me teasingly, although there’s a hint of worry woven in. “You buy me a drink and you get to fuck me again?”

Tension crackles between us. She’s thinking too much. Just let it be, Sophie. Let it be.

“I think you wouldn’t be flirting with me like this if you didn’t miss me.” I hesitate to tell her everything else, but I let some of it slip as I add, “I think you know how much I’ve missed you. I think you missed me too.”

“Maybe,” she answers quietly, her fingers still playing with the stem of her glass.

“Let’s get out of here then. Or maybe I can clear out the bar, and we can be alone for a minute.”

She huffs in disbelief, “Of course you would think to clear out the bar.” With a roll of her eyes, she takes another sip of her drink.

“It’s my bar, so I can do what I want with it.” Instead of looking impressed, she glances at me and then drops her gaze to the glass in her hand.

“Congratulations,” she says, but she’s quiet and then she visibly swallows.

The lack of excitement is obvious. “I forgot how …” she trails off and lets out a long breath rather than finishing her thought, then simply shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Madox. I’m really happy for you. You’re doing great and this place is really beautiful.”

“Why do you look like I just insulted you?”

“Does Trisha know you own this place?” she asks me and that’s when it hits me that she was going to avoid me.

“Brett knows,” I answer her and she nods slightly and then looks past me at the pool room.

“I’ve got to go,” she tells me in a single breath; I can practically hear her heart racing now. My hand catches her hip as she slips off the barstool, trying to get around me.

“No, you don’t. Don’t run from me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she snaps back loud enough for two people to focus their attention on us. My grip slowly lifts from her to my tumbler, although my gaze doesn’t wander from hers. I’ve never known how far to push with her. It’s always too much or too little and she’s full of fireworks, ready to go off with the slightest provocation.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I haven’t slept and I wasn’t expecting this. I’m--”

“Caught off guard?” I question her. When she nods I tell her, “I wasn’t expecting it either. I wasn’t expecting you to leave in the middle of the night three years ago, either.”

“I’m not doing this right now, Madox. I’m not fighting or dealing with… all that right now.”

“The last thing I want to do is fight,” I tell her carefully, watching how she absorbs every word. “I didn’t mean to put you on edge.”

“You always put me on edge, Madox. You are everything and I am so small in comparison. You own New York and I’ve never had my own place, or even a car. I’ve been scared to see you for years and you just strode over and told me you want to fuck me. No… no, you said you will be fucking me.” She corrects herself.

“I’m not taking back that last statement.” I speak calmly, letting her know what I want. None of her concerns matter. They’ve never mattered to me.

“Of course you’re not.”

“Did you miss me?” I question her with the only thing that is of concern.


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