Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
“But I don’t…” I shake my head, then stop. Why deny it when he knows?
He freaking knows. Pretending I don’t like or want him to take me to the edge is ridiculous. I’m literally squirming in my seat.
“Do you trust me?” His blue eyes hold mine, and it’s almost more intimate than if he were inside me. Because that’s a loaded question, and if I admit it out loud, I’m opening myself up for nothing but heartache.
His eyes caress my face as if he, too, feels this web of intensity being weaved around us. Then he turns to the road as the light turns green.
“That’s what I mean by setting you free.” He speeds around a car as I try to get ahold of my emotions. Everything with him is just heightened. It’s like he has one speed, and that is fast.
“Now say it,” he demands as my pulse pounds. Seconds tick by, and all at once, I’m scared. He could hurt me, my heart, my soul, my very being if I’m not careful.
“I trust you,” I whisper.
“Now, say Dean Powers owns my cunt.” He looks over at me again, the challenge all over his face, then back at the road.
“I… can’t say that.” Biting the lower fleshy part of my lip, I try to sit still.
“You can.”
I blink at him, and for the first time in my life, I stop judging myself or worrying about anything more than these feelings. Maybe he is right. There is no good or bad because who’s to really say what’s right?
“You own my cunt, Dean Powers,” I state as my pussy grows wetter and his nostrils flare.
“That’s right, I do.” His voice gets deeper, like we’re the only two people in this universe as he turns and pulls into his garage.
Jesus, this energy, it’s literally suffocating. He turns off the engine and grabs the back of my neck to bring my lips to his while his tongue demands mine. I groan when I taste and feel him because this kiss is deep and slow, like he’s branding my soul.
He lifts his head and says, “Inside, now,” but freezes when my phone rings like a dreaded rattlesnake warning me it’s in a corner, only this one is in my backpack.
His eyes narrow on mine. “Do you need to answer it?”
“No.” I shake my head, puffing out some air as I wait for it to stop. Guilt slithers up my spine. I already know it’s Jordan because I agreed to get Indian food with him tonight.
Brett cocks his head as his lips brush mine as I will the phone to just stop.
“Let’s go, Alexandrea.” I shudder because even though he said it like a caress, it’s anything but as he exits his door.
“Shit,” I whisper as I reach for my backpack. The door opening almost makes me jump.
“Thanks.” I try to smile as I walk to his side door when my phone starts ringing again.
This time, it’s almost echoing as his garage has amplified the sound. No. Just, no, this can’t be happening. I smile up at him because if I act like I don’t hear it, maybe he’ll play along?
“It’s probably my mom.” I say as I walk in. Great, Alex, way to pretend. He just smiles and tosses his keys on his island.
“Let me get it for you.” I lick my lips as I watch him try to take my backpack, and for a second, I wonder if I’m brave enough to drop down to my knees and give him a blowjob to distract him. Something tells me he should not see my phone.
“No.” I grab at his hand, almost crying in relief that it stopped. He cocks his head at me and then, in one quick jerk, takes it from me.
“Wait, Brett. It’s just that…” I swallow and point at it.
“That…” Oh God, where am I going with this? “My mom’s religious an–” My phone rings again, and he unzips the side pocket, bringing my cell out.
Jordan’s name lights up the screen in white, and I close my eyes. Because this is ridiculous. I’ve done nothing wrong. He’s the one who went to London and didn’t call. He’s the one who’s been ignoring me. I don’t need his permission to have Jordan as my friend.
“Answer it. And you don’t hang up until you come.”
BRETT
She looks so horrified I’d almost take pity on her if it was anyone but that frat boy. “What?” Her voice goes up a notch, as if she’s trying not to panic but is failing spectacularly.
My eyes dip to the rapid pulse in her neck, then drop down to her delicious rosy nipples beckoning me to suck and bite on them through her tee. She stands frozen, like a deer in headlights.
“Answer it.” I hand her the phone, and she looks down at it like I’ve just placed a spider in her hand.