Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 103119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
“Look at that fucking shake,” he growled through his teeth. “God, I love it.”
Whatever self-consciousness of her body or her flaws that remained had already fled, and now beauty and exhilaration and boldness bloomed where it had once been. “I want to see you shirtless,” she panted, positive he wasn’t going to hear her, but the confession blew out of her nonetheless. Where had that come from? She sounded almost irritated.
“What’s that, Hallie?” he said into her neck, never ceasing the rough forward momentum of his hips. “Shirtless?”
Why are you like this? “You j-jogged through town shirtless today. In front of people. And I . . . I mean, I haven’t even seen you that way and . . .”
He slowed to a stop, and without his movements inside of her, she could marvel over how truly large and hard he was. How much space he occupied. “Are you . . .” He labored to breathe. “You’re not jealous.”
“I think I’m a little jealous,” she muttered haltingly.
A heavy beat passed, full with the sound of crickets and mountain breeze and short, punctuated breaths. Then, with a pained grunt, he pulled out of Hallie and gently rolled her over onto her back . . . where she had a front-row seat to his disbelief. But he didn’t question her. He didn’t tell her she was nuts or debate how she should be feeling. Instead, he just found her mouth with his own, winding their tongues together while unbuttoning his dress shirt. He tugged it off hastily, ripping the remaining buttons free, sending them arcing into the grass. She kissed him with her glazed eyes open, watching all of it, seeing how tightly he closed his own while devastating her with the skilled journey of his tongue, deep and smooth.
Then he was shirtless, looming above her in the moonlight with a heaving chest. And wow, oh wow. She’d expected the lean lines of a runner’s body, and there was definition where she thought to find it, but in between, the roundness of muscle and man and flesh was incredible. Human. His natural body type was not that of a runner. No, the huskiness, the thickness shone through regardless of his strict regimen. It was there in the fullness of his stomach and the meaty breadth of his shoulders. If he stopped running, he probably wouldn’t fit into his suits before long, and why that should turn her on so much, she had no idea.
“Christ, Hallie. The way you’re looking at me . . .” He shook his head slowly, laughter strained. “Just come and get it, already, you gorgeous woman.”
As she rose to her knees and went forward, straddling his lap, she couldn’t remember a single time she’d been anything but this—desired and cherished and locked in swelling heat with this man. With her butt cheeks clutched in his hands, he guided her down onto his shaft, his eyes turning glassy as she went, jaw falling open on a moan. She felt her power and flexed it, holding on to his bare shoulders and rolling her hips. On the very first one, his head fell back, teeth digging into his bottom lip, his left hand fumbling to become an anchor in the dirt, his right thumb finding the bud at the juncture of her thighs, moving in that fast, firm rhythm she’d shown him, and yes, yes, she’d be rewarding him for paying attention.
“Oh shit. Oh Jesus. Don’t stop,” he gritted out, strumming her, lifting his hips to meet the increasingly frantic bucks of hers. Their mouths collided in fast, wet kisses, and in between, he scrutinized her movements, her body, with a gaze that could have melted steel. “Hallie, I’ve got about thirty seconds of watching your tits bounce while you grind that tight thing down on my cock, all right? Please, sweetheart. Come on my fucking lap. Christ, come on.”
He didn’t have to encourage her, it was already happening, but the way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her in that desperate rasp, propelled her closer to the edge. “More,” she said through numb lips. And without her elaborating, his thumb pressed tight to her clit and rubbed deeply, deeply enough that she wailed his name, the dam finally bursting inside of her.
Hallie wrapped herself around him as the tumult washed over her, nerve endings snapping like blue fire, the terrible, wonderful pulling and releasing of her core, so intense it was almost too much to stand, but the rush . . . God, the rush on the tail end of it was blistering and beautiful and left her awestruck. Left her clinging to Julian’s bucking body, before he went very still beneath her. Then he barked a curse and started to shudder, over and over again. Both of his hands were on her backside now, yanking her up and back in disjointed pulls and pushes, with a sharp, involuntary slap of his palm that she liked very much, thank you.