Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 85711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
His arm circles my waist, pulling me to him, and I’ve never felt so safe before. My hands wrap around his shoulders. His other hand goes straight to the nape of my neck, where he grips a handful of hair and pulls back so he can claim my lips. My mouth opens for his as his tongue slips in to meet mine. My eyes close as I take in the feeling of being in his arms; his tongue slides against mine and going around in a circle. He turns his head to the side to deepen the kiss and pushes my back to the door. One of my hands goes to the nape of his neck and slides up to touch the hair I’ve been itching to touch all night long. I moan when I feel him on my stomach through his jeans.
“Inside,” I say, panting, letting go of his lips for just a minute to say what I needed to say before going to kiss him again. If the night were to end right now, I would be okay with that because I’ve just had the best kiss of my life. The kiss that starts giving you flutters in your stomach, the kiss you hold your breath for. The kiss that makes your toes curl and you go to bed at night wondering if it really happened. The kiss that will forever be in my memory.
Moving my hands from his shoulder but never letting go of his lips, I reach for the handle, gripping it, and then stopping when he nips my lip and then sucks my tongue back into his mouth. He lets go of my hair, his hand coming out to hold my face as he kisses me with so much need. My hand turns the handle as I push the door open, and the hand still holding my waist picks me up as he walks us into my house. He turns and slams the door with his foot, pushing my back up against the door. He lets go of my lips as the both of us try to catch our breaths, my chest rising and falling as I look at him in the dark. The only light on is the little one on top of my fan over my stove that I never turn off. I place my hands on his chest, and I can feel his heart pounding underneath his shirt. “Jillian,” he says my name again, this time in a whisper. “I don’t know what I’m doing right now.”
I smirk at him as his hand comes up to push my hair away from my face and his thumb runs along the side of my face going toward my lips. “This is called making out,” I inform him, smiling and leaning in to nip at his lip. I’m so afraid he’s going to walk away from this and from me, and my heart’s not ready for the letdown yet. “And I don’t want to fluff your ego and all that, but that was one hell of a first kiss.” I lean in again and kiss him softly.
His hands come up as his fingertips touch my cheek, and my whole body explodes with goose bumps. “You are so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs. “The minute you want to stop this.” He kisses me back, his tongue sliding and dancing with mine, my eyes closing and then fluttering open when he stops kissing me, his eyes on mine as he says the next words. “You just say the word.”
“Michael…” I move my hand up and down his chest. “Can we do less talking?” I look up at him shyly. “And more kissing and other stuff.” It’s a good thing we are in the dark because I can feel my cheeks turning bright pink.
“Other stuff.” He laughs softly, bending his head and kissing under my chin. “What other things were you thinking about?” He trails his tongue toward my ear. “Tell me what other things you were thinking about.” I close my eyes when I feel him nip my ear, and my back arches against the door. He trails kisses down my neck and stops, making me groan. “You need to tell me what other things you were thinking about, or I’ll stop kissing you,” he says, and my stomach fills with flutters, shooting down to my core with need.
“I was hoping.” My head spinning from his touches, he continues to kiss me while I talk, and all I can do is think of all the things I want to do with him. “That we could maybe,” I say, stopping when he nips my clavicle. “Maybe,” I repeat, and his head comes up, and he kisses me again. This time the kiss is hungry. It’s needy, and it’s even better than the soft kisses he’s been giving me.