Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 112961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
I know passion—in the heat of many moments, I’ve collided with walls and broken furniture—but already this is something else. This is more than just urges and instinct; it’s connection and longing uncorked. The feel of Connor’s body beneath me leaves no doubt we could break anything in my house, but this hunger is intimate, too, sacred; burning me up from the inside. I am undone by the way his breath shakes against my lips and the quiet groans he strangles down when I sweep my tongue across his, when I wrap my arms around his neck, threading hands into his hair. I feel a desperate ache spiral through my torso when his hand leaves my hip and slides up under my sweater, big palm smoothing up my ribs, cupping my breast, coaxing my bra down as he kisses me with his hungry, teasing mouth. I sense that if we do this only once he wants to feel every inch of me. I want it, too, pressing into his hand, encouraging him with sounds, with my teeth scraping over his lower lip, his chin, down the sharp line of his neck.
The ocean roars behind us, waves rolling over themselves to break against the sand. My hands wander the width of his shoulders, down his chest to the flat plane of his stomach. His cheeks are flushed in the glow of the moon, lips full and bitten, eyes heavy with lust. A mark blooms on the skin of his throat, as clear as if I’ve graffitied my name there. This spot belongs to Felicity Chen. I want to put my mark all over his body, claiming. I reach between us, pressing a hand over the solid shape of him, my mind bottoming out when I register what I’m feeling. He’s big, and my body clenches, suddenly, painfully hollow.
I roll my hips against him, but instead of bringing relief it only makes me wilder. His mouth chases my kiss, swallowing the sound I make when he rocks up, the thick line of his cock pressing exactly where I need him. His hands cup my ass, pushing me away and pulling me closer, back and forth, again and again. I know I could come like this. It’s right there, shimmering on the edge of sensation, and I’m torn between letting my greedy body have its way and dragging him to the car so I can take my time.
But before I can unbutton his pants, he guides my hand away and pulls my hips closer again, arching into me.
“Take me home,” I tell him. “I want you so bad, Connor. Just one time.”
He breathes against my throat, mouth open, the shape of my name pressed into my skin. It seems to take monumental effort for him to pull away long enough to gaze up at me, only an inch between our faces, but it’s enough for the cold, wet ocean air to invade the space. His eyes clear and he takes a deep, shaking breath. Bending, he rests his forehead to my shoulder, exhaling in a long, slow stream.
Finally, he says simply, “No.”
Inside I am a beast with sharp, gnashing teeth. My clawed hands grab at the bars, shaking my cage. “Why?”
“Fizzy. We can’t.” But he doesn’t let me go. He pulls me into his body, holding me. Connor takes a deep breath, chest expanding against me, and then he seems to deflate. “We just can’t.”
In his arms, with his deep breaths setting a rhythm for my own, my fevered dust settles.
“It wouldn’t have to mean anything more than two friends scratching an itch,” I whisper.
“Unfortunately, I suspect it might mean a good deal more than that.”
I go still, feeling rattled by his words.
“Fizzy.” A gentle surrender hangs between us. “I really need this show to work,” he says quietly. “I don’t regret this, but it can’t happen.”
Leaning back, I frown, drawing a line from his forehead, down the straight angle of his nose, over his lips, and release a low growl. “Fine. Just take me home and I’ll dig in my nightstand for the biggest vibrator I can find.”
He laughs, and I hug him again, pouring all my gratitude into the embrace. Connor is awesome. I think about this friend I have now, this open, curious, steady man. I might not get to have him, but at least I get to keep him.
“I had fun on our quest for joy,” I say into his neck.
“Yeah,” he says. “Me, too.”
“But you’re the one who ended the insanely good groping, so you’re obligated to carry me to the car.”
“Is that right?”
“I don’t make the rules, I just follow them.”
I can feel the relief in his laugh that comes out warm against my hair. “Okay then.”
It takes some awkward shifting, hard parts sliding against soft spaces and his face in my boobs, but he manages to stand up with my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. With one tiny, final peck to my cheek, Connor carries our overheated bodies back to the parking lot.