Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“No. This isn’t a game.” I held her gaze so she knew I meant it. There was far too much at stake here for any miscommunication. “Nothing about you is a game to me.”
She exhaled a sigh of relief, then smiled slowly as she took one of my hands from her ass and placed it on her breast.
“Fuck.” My mouth watered at the weight that more than filled my hand.
“Then forget the lines and touch me.” She arched into my palm, her lips kiss-swollen, her eyes glazed, and her hair disheveled from my fingers.
I nearly swallowed my tongue.
Then I pulled her back to my mouth, kissing her deep and hard as I shaped her breast, running my thumb over her nipple. Seeing the green lace of her bra as I unzipped her last night had just about undone me, and, given the texture beneath the silk of her blouse, my bet was on lace again tonight.
Her fingers tangled in my hair as the kiss spun out of control. Who the fuck was I kidding? Everything about this was out of control—just the way I liked it. I flicked open the middle button of her blouse and slid my hand inside.
Lace.
She gasped as I worked her nipple through the fabric, her breath coming in pants against my lips. I checked to make sure the door to the cabin was still shut, then flicked open the next button and shifted her blouse so it opened right where I needed.
Lifting her slightly with one hand, I sucked the peak of her breast into my mouth, then teased her nipple between my teeth, playing with the lace to increase the friction.
Her grip tightened in my hair, so I flicked her with my tongue, then moved her blouse so I could give the other breast equal attention. Her responsive little whimpers had me harder than stone, and the way her hips moved was simultaneously torture and bliss.
“Nixon, you’re killing me.”
I lifted my head as my hand slid from her knee to her bare thigh. “You’re so damned soft.” It wasn’t like I didn’t know she had a killer body—I’d been around her twenty-four seven for the last month, but she didn’t exactly share that body with the same frequency I did.
Used to.
It wasn’t just the fulfillment of a fantasy to touch her. It was a privilege—one I knew she’d end at any second, because Zoe wasn’t the one who lost control in this relationship. That was my role.
Our eyes locked and held as I moved up her thigh. One sign from her that this was too far, and I’d back off, but she swept her tongue over her lower lip and nodded.
I slipped under her skirt, which had bunched just a few inches shy of the juncture of her thighs, and still she held my gaze, nothing but desire in those green depths. Fuck me, she was wearing lace here too.
My girl had a thing for matching underwear.
I nearly flinched at my own thoughts—Zoe wasn’t my anything, but then I felt just how wet she was for me, and I decided she might not be mine, but I was sure as hell hers in this moment.
“Zoe,” I groaned, running my fingers beneath the fabric of her— Holy shit, that was a thong? No wonder her ass looked seamless in this skirt.
She rested her forehead against mine, then moaned my name softly when I skimmed my fingertips over her clit.
I wanted to hear her scream it.
But we were on an airplane with three crew members just beyond a wall so thin it may as well have been a curtain.
Every muscle in my body locked. What the hell was I doing? I’d wanted to show her what the need crawling beneath my skin felt like and gone for the easiest example, and now I had us so worked up I was a zip and fabric shuffle away from being inside her.
You’re using her.
Just like she was a random hookup backstage or on the tour bus, when she was so much more.
“Nix?” Her brow knit in concern. “You okay?”
God, she was worried about me.
“You deserve better than this,” I ground out.
“How about you let me decide what I deserve.” She kissed me, swirling her tongue around mine. It took all of two seconds for me to respond and assume control of the kiss, but then she swayed, moving against my fingers, and I lost it.
“Zoe—”
“Please,” she whispered. “I’m on fire.”
Hell yeah, she was. She was so hot and liquid against my fingers I knew I’d slide home in a single thrust, but I wasn’t going there. I’d cut off my own dick before I used her like that, no matter how badly I wanted her. I wasn’t even sure want was the right word anymore. She’d become a need, like air, or water, or music.