Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
When I didn’t say anything, Harlee stood. “You said you had naughty dreams about me, Brax. I want you to do whatever you did in those dreams.”
My heart hammered in my chest. Who in the hell was this woman before me? For someone who wasn’t very experienced, she was about to make me come in my pants.
The idea of being with Harlee was suddenly the only thing I could think of. Focus on. Being the first to make her come by oral sex. Holding that goddamn ponytail while she gave me head. My mouth watered just thinking about it.
But some small, sensible part of my brain managed to speak. “Harlee, do you even hear yourself?”
She looked confused. “You don’t want me?”
I let a bark of laughter slip free as I walked over, took her hand, and placed it against my hard dick. “Christ, Harlee. This is how badly I want you. I’m so hard it hurts.”
Her eyes snapped down to her hand, then she looked back up at me.
“You’re Addie’s best friend,” I said. “She would kill me if I ever did anything to hurt you.”
She grinned. “Then don’t hurt me.”
I closed my eyes because I knew—I knew that after tonight that was exactly what would happen. I could see the way she looked at me. This wasn’t simply about me teaching her with no feelings involved.
Yet, when I opened my eyes, my breath caught in my throat, and I suddenly wanted Harlee more than I wanted air to breathe.
“Harlee, maybe you’ve had too much to drink and…”
My voice trailed off when she reached for her shirt and pulled it over her head, then quickly worked at getting her pants off. She stood before me in nothing but white lace panties and a matching bra.
I nearly dropped to the floor, my knees going weak at the sight of her. She was more beautiful than I could’ve ever imagined. Perfect in every single way. No woman had ever made my heart feel like it was about to pound out of my chest just from looking at her.
That should have been a loud warning signal. All I should do was make her come with my mouth, give her some pointers, then send her along.
Right. Like I had the power to do that now that I’d seen her nearly naked.
I tried to speak, but my throat was dry. My dick strained hard against my pants, and the look on Harlee’s face told me she knew I was going to cave the moment she touched me.
“You’re so beautiful,” I finally managed to get out.
She smiled at me, and when I didn’t move, she took a step toward me. She slowly lifted my shirt over my head, then ran her hands down my chest. I sucked in a breath from the feel of the heat of her hands and closed my eyes to keep from touching her back. I wanted to touch her so fucking badly.
It doesn’t mean anything. It’s been a long time. It’s not her touch that’s driving you insane.
When she started to unbutton my jeans, my head screamed at me to stop her. This was Harlee. Harlee! I cared about her, and I was terrified of what this would do to our friendship once we both came to our senses. At the same time, I realized I had never wanted someone so desperately. I wanted to be greedy. I wanted to take what she was so freely giving to me.
My dick sprang free, and she looked up at me with those big blue eyes. I took her hand and wrapped it around me. “You’ve touched a guy before, right?”
She nodded as she pulled her hand back, licked it in the most sensual way, then started to move it up and down my shaft. I hissed in a breath and closed my eyes, praying I didn’t come.
“Brax, I want your mouth on me. Please.”
That was the moment I knew I was truly in trouble—because the only thing I could think of was how much I wanted the woman standing before me.
It turned into one of the most amazing nights of my life. But little did I know how much everything would change between us once the sun came up.
Brax
Eight Years Later
I looked out from the ferry and stared at the lighthouse that was coming into view. The nerves in my stomach told me I was about to prove myself right today, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
The moment I read in the gossip column that the anonymous Ms. Seaside thought the town of Seaside was founded in 1762 and not in 1763, I knew it was Harlee who was writing the articles.
During the single night we’d spent together so long ago, she’d told me all about her research on Seaside. That it had actually been founded in 1762, though everyone claimed it was 1763. Her love of history had been so obvious that night, and when she’d talked about our little town, it was clear how much she loved it here.