Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 106001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
He takes a beat, blows out a breath. “I do want to see her. But she’s throwing a party and she wants me to come. She’ll be at Sardi’s.” He winces on the word.
I stop in the middle of the garden, my hand itching to touch his. I lock my fingers together so I don’t touch him in public. “When?”
I ask it like there’s some time in the future, the near future, when I could go as his date. When I could be his shield for real.
“A couple weeks,” he says, resigned, clearly knowing I can’t go with him then.
I’m not sure I ever can. But I can give him this much. “I’d go with you. You know that, right?”
Instantly, he answers with, “I’d take you. You know that?”
I nod, barely able to speak past the emotions in my throat. “Bridger?” I begin, and I can’t wait any longer. “What happens after tonight?”
He sighs, smiling sadly. “I’m not doing a very good job staying away from you, am I?”
“Do you want to get better at that?” I ask, a little coy.
He inches closer, a tease of a smile on his lips. “I should want to, but I don’t.”
“Me neither,” I say.
We’re only grabbing onto pieces of the present, but for now, he’s not letting go either.
“Your brother won’t be here for a bit, you said?” he asks.
I check my phone. A text from Hunter says he just landed. “He should be at my place in an hour.”
“That gives us some time,” he says.
I know exactly what I want to do with it.
There’s not time for that.
But the second the elevator doors close in my building, Bridger’s all over me. Pressing me to the wall, holding my face, devouring me.
This is what I longed for way back when I was in Paris.
This is what I imagined every time I was alone.
I pictured this man wanting me with this wild abandon.
When the doors creak open on my floor a few seconds later, Bridger’s breathing hard. I scan the hall. There are ten apartments on my floor. The hallway’s empty. I grab his hand, and together we walk down to 8E.
Quickly, I unlock it.
The door’s barely closing when he crowds me up against the wall. Kissing me fiercely. With sighs, and lips, and touches. His murmurs wind me up. His touches turn me on. And his body grinding against mine exhilarates me.
He’s more pent up than he was in the car before the gallery.
He’s a jack-in-the-box, and every push and pull of our bodies makes him coil tighter, higher.
Harder.
God, he feels incredible, and I want so much more of him. I maneuver a hand between us, sliding down his flat stomach, heading for his waistband.
My breath catches as I near his erection, pulsing, thick.
He breaks the kiss, sucks in a breath.
The awareness that my hand is traveling to his hard-on hits him.
He pulls back, looks at me. “Harlow,” he says, like a warning.
“I want to,” I say, stripped bare and hungry.
He closes his eyes, then covers my hand. He’s not stopping me yet. Maybe just stalling me.
When he opens his eyes, he keeps his hand locked tight on mine, poised on his belt. “I want you so much,” he rasps out. “I don’t even know how to handle this. I don’t know what’s right anymore. I don’t know a goddamn thing. But when I’m with you, I just…want.”
I’m on fire. “What do you want to do to me right now?”
His eyes darken. “Taste you. Everywhere,” he says.
I shudder. Everywhere. In my knees too.
With his free hand he grabs my hip, steadying me. “Don’t fall,” he murmurs.
Too late for that.
“I won’t,” I mutter, then I glance at the time in the kitchen. My brother will be here way too soon.
There’s no time to be Bridger’s dessert. But I have to ease this ache. I can’t survive the night this wet, this aroused. I’m desperate and needy so I ask, “Can you—”
In no time, his hand slides up my skirt, into my panties, and he’s easing this ache.
Oh god, is he ever.
Up against the wall, he strokes me, fast, expertly. It won’t take long. Not tonight. Not with me this wired.
When I’m close, I gasp out, “Can I please touch you too?”
“Fuck,” he curses.
I don’t know if that’s a yes, so I ask again. “Please?”
“Yes, fucking yes,” he bites out.
Then, my hands are flying, and I’m unzipping his slacks, tugging at the waistband of his boxer briefs, and curling a hand around his hot, hard length.
I gasp, stroking him as he fucks me with his fingers.
He shakes as I touch him. Then growls something rough and incoherent. It’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard, and it flips the switch in me. In seconds, I’m crying out, and it’s intense as pleasure whips through my body.
But I don’t let go of him. I keep going, moving my fist, thrilling at him rocking into my hand.