Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 111038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Slipping my hand in his, I rested against Blaise’s side.
His arm came around my shoulder.
In this moment, everything felt good. Everything felt right.
So why was I worried?
40
Aspen
We were parked in his Wagon at the recently reopened Fallen Crest drive-in.
Blaise’s mouth was on my throat, and moving south. I was about to burst out of my clothes, not to mention my seat.
“Blaise.”
I had about three seconds before my mind shut off and I wouldn’t give a crap where we were. So I needed to disentangle his arms—and more importantly his mouth—because we were so not somewhere that we could move this where we wanted to go.
It had almost seemed a joke when a local business owner had announced his plan to reopen the drive-in, but it’d been up and running for the last two weeks, and based on the number of cars around us, it was proving to be popular. The grand opening had been a week after our graduation—same as the night Blaise’s mom had talked him into letting her have a graduation party for him.
It’d been a rocky event.
Marie wanted to go big and bold, and Blaise only wanted Zeke and me there. After a few exchanges, Marie had compromised. We were still getting to know each other, but I liked her. The guest list ended up being Zeke, Brian, Branston (all guys I was starting to get to know and becoming more comfortable around), Stephen (who was lovely), Taz (who I adored instantly), and Taz’s boyfriend, Race. He seemed intense.
The last two weeks had been interesting for my family.
Nate had stayed almost the entire week after graduation, because his friends were all coming in the next weekend. So that meant my parents were around the entire week, and since meeting Blaise, my mom was like a dog after a bone. Blaise had attended three family dinners, two family breakfasts, and every time he picked me up, he had to come into the house.
“Pick me up” was a relative concept, because Blaise was still sneaking into the house and sleeping over.
We’d slowed down on the sex, but there’d been a lot of nights of sweaty moans, and a lot of me cursing about why he wanted to slow down. Yes, he did. Not me. I was like “get in me now,” and Blaise was all, “no, we need to slow down. I have to show you how much I care about you.”
For a badass boyfriend, he was ridiculously careful with me.
I knew I loved Blaise, but I hadn’t expressed that to him. I started bringing it up, but each time I did, he began kissing me, and I ended up trying to get him to climb into my pants. He’d refrain, and I’d want to curse him.
I was starting to get a complex, about him.
So, I was both surprised and not surprised that he was putting the moves on me now.
We were at the drive-in. And probably he wasn’t planning to follow through, because he couldn’t, so why was I trying to be the responsible one here?
Screw that.
I turned and climbed onto his lap.
He leaned back, his eyes surprised, and I grinned as I straddled him.
His hands went to my legs. “Hey.”
Yeah. Turnabout is fair play.
“Hi.” I moved forward and began tasting his throat.
“Jesus, Aspen.” He groaned.
I grinned, moving down his throat to his chest.
He took deep gulps of air, his hands kneaded my hips.
“You like this?” I asked.
He groaned.
Yes. He liked this. He liked this a whole lot. I could feel him between my legs, and I ground down on him.
I heard a swift intake of breath before he grabbed the back of my hair. “Woman,” he warned.
I ignored him. I lifted my head, my mouth finding his just on the end of that warning, and he was gone. He cradled my face in his hands and took over the kiss, commanding me. His tongue slid inside, and I met it with mine.
I loved when we kissed like this.
I loved it even more when I felt him inside of me in other ways, and grabbing his hands, I guided one between my legs. “I want you,” I whispered against his mouth.
He tensed, still cupping my cheek with his other hand.
He was trying to clear his head, trying to think clearly. I knew the signs by now, and I wasn’t having it. Pushing against his chest, rubbing over him, I reached down and unbuckled my jeans.
“Fuck, Aspen.”
He moaned, and his hand tunneled inside.
I lifted up, just slightly, and then his fingers were there.
I sank down, and we both paused at the feel of him inside of me.
Thank God his windows were tinted—a graduation gift from his mom. And that was a fleeting thought before I began to ride his hand.
This. Right here.
Blaise loved making me come. He loved kissing me, he loved moving down there, his tongue slipping inside, and every time I would shatter in his arms. But in the last two weeks, that was all he’d done for me.