Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
She stared at him mutely. She shouldn’t be tempted, but she was—and she knew he knew it.
“I have to help Daff prepare something for the reception,” she said, her voice far from convincing, even to her own ears. “Excuse me.”
She brushed by him and hurried to catch up with Daffodil, her oldest sister, who was walking a few paces ahead of Lia. Sam Brand’s teasing voice drifted from behind her.
“That’s not a no, princess.”
Lia spent the next few hours trying her utmost to avoid the man. Because she really didn’t think she had it in her to say no if he was to proposition her again. Add a few drinks into the mix and she could feel her resolve weakening with every passing moment. After the toasts were made and the food was eaten and the dancing started, Lia began to think that she might have successfully avoided him. But then while she was watching the happily swaying couples on the dance floor, she looked up and saw him purposefully striding her way.
“Crumbs!” she muttered beneath her breath and ducked behind a waiter before inconspicuously slipping behind a huge floral arrangement in the corner of the grand tent. She stood still for a moment before realizing how ridiculous she must look, hiding behind the flowers in her poofy lilac bridesmaid dress.
She risked a quick self-conscious glance around the gigantic pale-pink-and-white peony arrangement and sucked in a horrified breath when she caught Sam’s gaze. Disgustingly bad timing, that. His eyes creased at the corners, and he adjusted his course and headed toward her no-longer-so-secret hiding place.
He was there before she could leave, and he angled himself directly in front of her.
“What you doing over here, princess?” He leaned forward to murmur the words in her ear. “Are you anti-socializing? Nice. I like it. I think I’ll anti-socialize with you. In our own private little nook.”
Not her intention at all!
“I was just taking a quick break—” From you. “Time to head back into the fray, I think.”
“But it’s so cozy here,” he said, running a finger up her bare arm and raising gooseflesh in the process. Lia fought to keep her breath even and clamped her thighs together when her lady parts responded with Pavlovian inevitability. “. . . and so intimate.”
He now had his forearm braced against the support post above the flowers and was leaning into her, his breath warm on her face as he spoke into her ear, his lips brushing against her temple with each word. His other hand continued to trace lazy circles over her responsive flesh, and Lia bit back a groan. She was hanging onto the post herself; her legs had as much strength as a pair of overcooked noodles, and the post was the only thing keeping her upright at the moment.
“The party’s winding down,” he noted, making her moan when he caught her naked earlobe gently between his teeth.
“Stop it,” she whispered, her voice lacking any semblance of authority. But he obliged her by releasing her earlobe, even though he maintained the intimate closeness between them.
“Wanna head back to my room?” he invited.
“I don’t think so.” Was it her imagination or were his light movements on her arm becoming a little more purposeful? Yes, in one smooth movement, his large hand dropped to gently cup the indentation of her waist, just above her hip bone.
“Your place?” My place. Please, she lived with her parents, like a lame duck incapable of leaving the nest.
“Definitely not.”
“Quickie in a closet?” What did it say about her that she paused for a beat before once again issuing a curt negative in response to his almost-playful suggestion?
“You’re making this difficult, Dahlia.”
She winced. She wished he would stop using her given name. It was positively cringeworthy.
“The other night was a one-off, you know that. We agreed to it.”
“I don’t recall us doing very much talking. Just a lot of heavy breathing and moaning. And I remember you taking the Lord’s name in vain very many times. Come on, Dahlia. How about a farewell fuck? A shag for the road? One last, glorious spin around my cock?”
Oh God. He was so vulgar. Lia found him disgusting and disturbingly attractive in equal measure. But he did know his way around a woman’s body. He wasn’t a selfish lover like her fiancé had been—instead he’d placed her wants and needs front and center, seeming to find gratification in her pleasure.
“I don’t think it would be advisable at all.”
“Why not? What’s another night in the grand scheme of things? You have other plans tonight? You’ve already been introduced to my pointy end, so you know exactly what you’re getting yourself into, yeah? I’m leaving first thing in the morning. You won’t ever see me again, so why deprive yourself of the joy my cock and I could give you?”