Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
EVE
I smell smoke, leather, and fresh clean something. Whatever it is, I love it and need to sink deeper into it. I open my eyes and the smell I was dreaming about is actually Jason’s neck and chest. Not moving, I’m frozen. What the hell is happening to me? My cheeks burn and my mouth parts so that I can let some much-needed air into my lungs. The room is dark save for the slit in the curtain allowing one bright line of sunlight on the edge of the bed. I know I’m an innocent when it comes to sex, but what the hell? I want to groan and bury my head in his neck yet I’m mortified. What I’m doing with Jason is way too intense, too connected and I can’t have that. I slowly move back, but his arm tightens around me, almost like he doesn’t want me to move.
Warning bells are going off loud and clear. I need to put distance between us or I’m going to start falling for this man, god… Whatever he is, I’m out of my league. Sitting up, I look at him. He must be a heavy sleeper or he’s exhausted. My gentle movements make him stir and that’s about it. When I sit up quickly, all he does is move his arm under his head allowing me the ability to admire his bicep and tattoos. They’re beautiful. Most are black, but then there will be a splash of color like my favorite red rose, which seems to be bleeding blood and tears. They do something to me. Tempted to reach out and trace them with my fingers and tongue, I hungrily let my eyes take in his tan chest. So hot. He’s perfect. Power radiates off him, and it’s no wonder why every woman wants him. I get up to use the bathroom, my mind doing a one-eighty. I mean, why the fuck not? He wants me—that much is obvious, I reason. If I could actually do the unobtainable and make this man fall at my feet, I could be safe.
The key to this plan is making him love me while I only like him. Flushing the toilet, I reach to wash my hands and look at myself in the large mirror. I have never once cared about the way I look. In a way, it was a big problem as I got older. But as I stare at my reflection, I hear myself whispering, “Thank you, Mama,” because for the first time, I’m grateful I inherited her big blue eyes, high cheekbones, and puffy lips. I remember crying when my breasts started to grow. My poor dad looked almost helpless then told me to be grateful that I inherited my mother’s body. That’s all he said, and I stopped crying. I turn around and assess my reflection from behind. Long, thin legs—that’s good. My butt looks a little small, but hey, no one’s perfect. I smile at my tan lines. Actually, sunbathing for two days has already lightened my hair. If I keep at it, I’ll be a light blond. Reaching for my new sparkly pink toothbrush, I quickly brush my teeth, my mind scheming at how to get the hot god in the other room to keep me. It can’t be that hard, right?
I’m so engrossed in my thoughts I nearly scream when large tan hands snake around my waist pulling me back against his hard chest. He buries his head in my neck and my heart starts beating like a drum.
“You smell good,” he says, and I almost choke on the toothpaste in my mouth. I lean over to spit and his large, hard dick lines up at my ass. Quickly, I straighten. He looks up into the mirror and for one heart-stopping moment, the world is gone. All I see are his green eyes gazing at me as if I’m special.
“Jason.” My voice sounds raspy or maybe hoarse. His eyes narrow and change as if a curtain has closed over them. I look away then, wanting whatever we shared to come back. But it’s gone, the spell broken. His warm lips are at my neck sucking and licking, and I find myself staring at us in the mirror. His hands massage my full breasts.
“Christ, look at you. Look at these fucking tits.” He squeezes them and I can’t help but groan as he pinches my nipples taut and hard.
“God.” My voice sounds like someone else’s as one hand jerks me tightly back into his warm arms. I watch his tattooed hand slide down my flat stomach to my sex and I feel everything: his chest, his breath, his lips.
“Open,” he commands, and I gaze at him in the mirror. Those pretty eyes of his are mesmerizing. My legs spread open and his fingers glide right inside. In the back of my mind, I wonder if I should be embarrassed at how wet I get. But he groans and says, “God, I love that you are dripping for me. Watch me, Angel. Watch how fast I make you come.” And I do. His one hand that was playing with my breast is gone and holding my leg up so I have a direct view of my pink, wet pussy. His other hand rubs my clit roughly.