Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18302 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 92(@200wpm)___ 73(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18302 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 92(@200wpm)___ 73(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
God, that felt incredible.
I sensed her follow behind me, and once I was at the front door, I opened it and let her enter first. She walked over the threshold, and I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply again. I couldn’t get enough. A rough sound left me. Damn, she fucking smelled incredible.
She stepped inside my home and I was instantly struck by how perfect she looked in here, how I fucking loved having her surrounded by my things. I swear to fucking everything that I saw my life flash before me... and she was in the center of it all.
I knew one thing for certain—I wouldn’t be able to let her leave without tasting her first and making sweet Charlotte know she was mine.
Chapter Five
Charlotte
I felt him watching me, but I didn’t turn around to look at Mateo. I was afraid of how I felt for him, this arousal so strong it was like another being inside me.
I should leave. That would be the smart thing for me to do.
But I couldn’t. I didn’t want to.
A part of me knew coming up here wasn’t just for that apology. I knew I wanted to see him, but it wasn’t until I looked at him again, his chest on full display, he male prowess pouring off him so potently I felt it deep in my cells, that I knew there had never been a man, woman, life experience—hell, anything—that had made me feel this way.
And that terrified me. But more than anything, I wanted to explore it, to see what happened if I threw caution to the wind and just experienced this pull.
I did turn around then, our gazes locking. His eyes looked so blue in this lighting, his expression so feral.
I looked around his home. It was just as beautiful as the outside, with exposed wooden beams above, an open floorplan through the first level, and a loft that housed the second story. The kitchen was massive with white granite counters, stainless steel appliances, and a picture window in front of the dining room table.
This certainly wasn’t how I’d pictured his house.
“It’s gorgeous,” I said softly and finally turned around then.
“Thank you,” he said deeply, and I came to realize that was just the way he spoke. He was rough around the edges, and I was surprised how much I liked that. “It pleases me that you like it here.”
My heart skipped a beat at his words, because he genuinely sounded like he was very happy I liked it, like pride filled him over it.
I didn’t want to stop this, didn’t even want to fight myself over how I felt. This was fast and insane, crazy, but it felt… right.
God, it felt so right.
Oh, God. What’s happening?
Mateo came closer—stalked me being a better term for it. And as I backed away on instinct, not to get away, but because I knew he liked the chase, the kitchen island stopped my retreat.
My heart was beating so hard I actually lifted at my hand and placed it over my chest, as if I could stop it, maybe slow it down. A man like Mateo seemed like he’d be able to sense these kinds of things, like he had an animal inside him, the sixth sense that allowed him to see what wasn’t really there.
Or in my case, to see what was painfully obvious.
And that was my desire, my lust, arousal, the euphoric sensation that I finally found a place where I was supposed to be. And that was with him.
Rationalization and reality told me I should really think about this, that I should realize things like this were not normal. People didn’t feel this way about strangers, this connection, this pull that had the tips of my fingers tingling all the way down to my toes. But despite knowing that, common sense trying to lift its nasty, negative head up, I said fuck it. I didn’t want to lose this feeling. I wanted to latch onto it until there was nothing else that could penetrate my pleasurable haze.
Maybe this was what an addict felt like, wanting that high until nothing else mattered, until the weight of the world, inconsistencies, the negativities, all washed away until there was only the... good feeling.
And I felt like that with Mateo. And the longer we stood there and stared at each other, just feet separating us, the more I sensed he felt the same way. It was like I knew his feelings, his emotions. And the way he moved his gaze up and down my body, sending shivers up my spine, told me the attraction wasn’t just one-sided.
He wanted me as much as I wanted him.
“How old are you, Charlotte?” He took a step toward me, and I breathed in deeply. God, I’d never heard a man’s voice that deep before.