Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 128061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
“Why did you sit on my lap? If you don’t make it a habit, I mean.”
She shrugged. “I felt like you needed it. I figured that if you didn’t feel comfortable, you’d just remove me. You are certainly strong enough. You could probably throw me across the grass if you wanted to.”
“I’d never throw you.”
She didn’t comment, just burrowed in that much deeper so he could squeeze her tightly and close his eyes. It did help. He liked the buzz. It felt good. Comforting. He knew that was the point.
She didn’t come back with a witty quip for him, which was unlike her.
“Do you not believe me?” he asked softly, the buzz settling down deep, the growl in his words hinting at his desire.
“Of course I believe you. But you set me up for a sexual taunt, and it didn’t feel like the time.”
“A sexual taunt?”
“Yeah. Like—sex would be really boring if you never threw me down on the bed…”
He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his groin pounding. She wiggled a little, maybe to try to give him more space, to make this less awkward for him. But with all the emotions tumbling through him right then, shame was the last emotion he could’ve felt.
His fingers were in her hair before he knew what he was doing, trying to find a port in the storm. His other hand went to her knees, turning her, dragging one leg over his hip until she straddled him. Her dress rode high, and he traced her inner thigh with his fingertips, wanting to sink them into her heat. Her breasts heaved against his chest, and hot breath tumbled out of her open, waiting mouth.
“Is this what you want?” she asked, and he knew she did. She’d made no secret of her interest.
He also knew it wouldn’t be personal. It would just be physical, for both of them. It would ruin any hope of their having a friendship, the thing he needed most.
But he was hard-pressed to stop as his hand found her center and rubbed against her panties, feeling along the edge of the lace before dipping in.
Her soft groan set him on fire. He trailed his fingers through her slickness. Her hips jerked forward like they were out of her control, and he plunged his fingers into the core of her.
He took those lips, thrusting his tongue into her mouth before sucking hers into his, devouring her sweet taste. He worked her hard with his fingers. Too hard, probably, but he couldn’t seem to calm down. His desire to take her nearly undid him. He’d dreamed of it more than once. Fantasized. He didn’t care that they were on the porch. He didn’t care that this would ruin everything between them. That, once this was done, she’d cease to exist for him. That his guilt over being with someone other than his mate would corrode any feeling, even friendship, he had for her.
He knew all of that. But he wanted this anyway. He wanted to drown out the nightmares and shadows that were rising and trying to consume him.
He worked his belt with his other hand, trying to get it free. Trying to get himself free.
Tight fingers squeezed his wrist. A shock of magic flooded him, cold through his center. More magic, pushing pain into little pricks across his body.
He froze, a hard thing to do, wrestling with all of his control. He knew what the signal for stop was.
“I want to do this,” she said softly, her lips still against his. “I really, really do. I’ve wanted to since I first laid eyes on you. This is not me rejecting you. But you don’t seem in control, and besides, we can’t do it like this. Whatever you’re facing, this isn’t the solution. This would be me taking advantage of you, and I will not do that. When you’re back to being a surly asshole, let’s bump uglies then. Not like this.”
He angled his face to catch her lips again, slow this time. Softer. He loved her taste as much as her smell. But she was right. Not about taking advantage of him—if something more had happened here, on his porch, he’d be guilty of that, too—but about the situation. About the mood. Hell, about their location and who might walk by and see. This was crazy.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice gruff. “I’m sorry, I—”
“I shouldn’t have let it get that far,” she said, delicately taking the blame.
He shook his head as she turned, fixing her dress and leaning up against him again as though nothing untoward had happened. She was effectively covering the moment. Smoothly covering it, as though she’d had a lot of practice handling dangerous things.
She thought of him as a dangerous thing.
His heart caved in and he dipped his head, guilt consuming him. “I’m not usually that rough. Or that…uncontrolled.”