Sparked (V-Card Diaries #4) Read Online Lili Valente

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Erotic, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: V-Card Diaries Series by Lili Valente
Advertisement1

Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
<<<<45556364656667>70
Advertisement2


Her jaw muscle twitches. “I’m not so sure about that.”

I frown. “Well, I am. Give me six months. I’ll prove you can trust me with anything and everything.”

She shakes her head. “No, I didn’t mean… I meant, me. I meant I’m not so sure you want to know every part of me. Some parts of me are garbage, Sam. Like the part that tortures myself when I make a mistake or don’t perform up to my expectations. Or the part that doesn’t understand why you want me so much. Especially after seeing your gorgeous ex-girlfriend in the flesh.”

My head rears back. “What? Where?”

“At the cat rescue. Apparently, Erica is friends with Boob Woman from the other day,” she says. “We started talking, and I realized how serious things must have been between you two. That’s why I started digging into your past in the first place.”

My shoulders sag. “I see. Well, at least that makes sense. I was wondering if I did something to make you suspicious.”

Her gaze cools again. “No, you were a very good liar.”

“In the name of love, Jess,” I say. “And I know that doesn’t excuse it, but it’s the truth. I am crazy in love with you. I feel more for you than I’ve ever felt for anyone else in my entire life, Erica included. She was a great person, but she wasn’t you. There’s only one you, one brilliant, funny, quirky, loyal, talented, amazing you. The real question you should be asking yourself is if I’m worthy of all the incredible things you have to offer.”

Her forehead furrows and her eyes begin to shine. “I don’t know. I don’t know the answer to any of these questions, I just know that I cried for two hours after I left you at the bar. It felt like you’d died, but worse.”

Throwing caution to the wind, I take the folder of pictures and toss it back into the bag before gripping her hands tightly in mine. I lean down, catching her gaze and holding it. “I get it. Betrayal is the fucking worst, and I hate myself for doing that to you. But I can make it better. I know I can. If six months is too long, give me one. One month to regain your trust and we take it as slow as you like. Just don’t give up on us, Jess. Please.”

Tears slip down her cheeks, making my heart sink until she says, “I don’t want to take it slow. I want to jump right back into the deep end because I love you too, you jerk. I love you so much the thought of never kissing you again made me feel like Frodo after he got hooked on the evil ring and realized he had to throw his precious into Mount Doom and destroy it.” She sniffs and sobs, “You’re my dark ring of power, Sam. I’m helpless against your vibes, and it scares me.”

Fighting a smile, I gather her to my chest, hugging her tight. “Baby, I’m not your dark ring of power. I’m your magic wand, the one meant just for you, that’s been waiting at the wand store for you to come collect me. I’m here to amplify your magic, not get you hooked on mine.”

She tilts her head back, looking up at me with still-doubtful eyes. “I’m not sure about that, but I do love your magic wand, and I’d like to get to know it a whole lot better.”

Brows lifting and heart in my throat, I ask, “Does that mean what I think it means?”

“If you think it means that I want you to take me back to your hotel and make love to me until I know you mean everything you say in that visceral way, I know things when you’re touching me…” She gulps in a breath. “Then yes, it means what you think it means.”

“Thank God.” Tears of gratitude surge into my eyes and I squeeze her tight enough to summon a soft “oof” from her lips. “Sorry,” I say. “I’m just so grateful.”

“And I’m calling a car,” she whispers, pulling her cell from the back pocket of her jeans.

“Not if I call one first,” I counter, whipping out my phone.

I have a car on the way before she can type in her address, and we hurry back down the stairs to her place. She grabs her toiletry bag and throws some clothes into her backpack before waving to a beaming Evie and Harlow, who are parked at the kitchen table. Evie yells, “We love you guys and we’re rooting for you,” as we dash down to meet the town car already idling by the curb, making my heart soar a little higher.

Twenty-five minutes later, Jess and I are kissing in the elevator on the way up to my penthouse suite and stumbling through the door in each other’s arms. Jess takes a moment to toss her bag on the ground and make fun of me for booking a giant suite for one person like some kind of tech billionaire before jumping into my arms.


Advertisement3

<<<<45556364656667>70

Advertisement4