Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
The others begin reading off their item of choice, but I was too busy fantasizing to look at the menu, so after Crew orders, I simply say “same,” and sit back, ignorant to the conversations flowing around me as I formulate an equation in my head.
I attempt to make sense of the million thoughts running through my mind but can’t.
Crew’s protective and possessive nature taking a turn in the direction I’ve been dying for, his newfound need to touch and overall alpha ways.
His open and angry denials, repetitive refusals, and offer to find someone to take what I want to be his.
God, but his whispered confession and the way his hands feel on my skin—heavy and strong, greedy. Needy?
Ugh! It’s like no matter how many variables I add in, no matter the words that leave his mouth or the ones behind his eyes he chooses not to speak, mean very little when the result remains the same. Regardless of what I may be confused about, I understand the end won’t change.
It will still be me virginityless and Crew a non-participant.
The deal is still on, Davis. Don’t scare him away with worthless worries.
“So, what’s the plan after this?” Willie asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
“I’m taking her to the pier to ride the Ferris wheel.” Crew looks my way. “Good way to end our first date, yeah?”
My eyes shoot wide, and around the table, low whistles and quick laughs follow. Pretty sure Layla coos.
All I can do is stare and then Crew shocks the shit out of me.
He leans over, presses his lips just beneath my jaw, and goes right back to his conversation.
Like nothing.
As if it were no big deal and if he didn’t say we were on a date… when it’s pretend.
As if this weren’t simply a lesson… when it is.
As if he didn’t just insinuate he was on the verge of being mine… when it couldn’t be further from the truth.
As if he didn’t willingly press his soft, plush, perfectly rough lips to my skin… when we all witnessed it.
It’s all part of the agreement, an extension of our deal, this lesson in first dates and what to expect during it, but I’m still a ready and waiting virgin with an epically pounding pulse. To be honest, I might faint if the others weren’t here distracting me enough to remember to breathe, especially when the hand on my chair comes back around to rest on my thigh. My bare thigh, where he tortures me with long slow strokes of his thumb.
It’s official. Crew Taylor is trying to ruin me and call me a wayward woman, I’m dying to let him.
He said he won’t allow me in his bed, but I wonder what it would take to get him to play in mine a bit?
“Oh, babe, there’s a live band!” Layla claps, dragging her husband by the hand into the crowd.
Willie cuts a look our way, slicing his finger across his neck as she tugs him farther and farther into the mayhem.
“It’s cute how he acts like he’s anything other than pleased to give her all the little things she wants.” I smile after the couple. It’s so obvious how much he loves her.
He’s never not touching her when she’s in reach, and when she’s not, it’s not for too long and he normally finds her, kisses her to get his fix and goes on his way.
“Yeah, he’s whipped to the core and loves it.” Crew chuckles as he takes my hand. He lifts it until my knuckles are pressed to his mouth and he glides his lips across them with a small nip. His eyes flash, and a moment later, we’re as lost in the mob as the others.
Crew slips behind me, holding on to my waist and leads, swaying my hips the slightest bit while I stare at the band. It’s not a song I’ve heard or a band I know, likely a local, but it’s upbeat and perfect for dancing in the sand. I like it.
I like this.
Having somewhere to go and someone to go with.
Crew presses closer, his hands tightening their hold on my hips, his chest now flush with my back. “Push into me, Sweets. Let me know you like feeling my body against yours.”
Heat pools between my legs at his words, and I swallow, doing exactly what he says.
I press my ass into his thighs, and he bends a hint, so the friction of his zipper brushes along the cotton material of my shorts.
It’s intoxicating, the way his hands span wider, how his shoulders close in more, building a cocoon around me. Locking me into him and keeping me as far away from anyone else as possible. It feels as if he wants me to himself, the world around us be damned.
I’ve danced with men before, but never for more than a moment, and not like this.