Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
All too soon, he pulls back, ending the kiss, and I find myself once again wanting to be back in his embrace, craving the warmth he emits.
He presses his forehead against mine and sighs. “So damn sweet. Two kisses, and you already got me addicted like a kid in a candy store.”
“Sugar’s bad for you,” I half-joke, trying to make light of his words because I have no idea what the hell I’m doing. With Trent, it was easy. I was young and carefree. He was cute and fun, and we fell fast and hard like most teenagers do. It’s different with Pierce, though. I can’t quite put my finger on it—and maybe that’s because I’ve only ever loved and been with one guy in my life—but when he looks at me, touches me, kisses me…it feels more intense.
“Maybe,” Pierce says, his lust-filled eyes meeting mine, “but it’s still damn good.”
We spend a little while longer with Pierce’s family—thankfully, nobody comments on the kiss—before we say good night and Pierce drives us home.
He walks us to the door, and I debate whether to invite him in. On one hand, we just spent hours together. On the other, it was with a bunch of other people, and I’d really love to spend some time with him alone.
“Would you like to come in?” I ask once Jordan’s disappeared into her room to get ready for bed. I should bathe her, but it’s late, and she’s exhausted.
“I’d love to,” he says, stepping inside.
I go about putting Jordan to bed, and I’m shocked when Pierce joins me to say good night as I perform our nightly routine, where I kiss her and her stuffed ladybug, Dots. As her eyes flutter closed, I know she’ll be asleep before I even close her door.
Now that it’s quiet and just the two of us, I’m unsure of what to do or say. Pierce must realize that because he smiles softly and takes my hand in his, guiding us down the hallway. I assume he’s taking me to my bedroom and I’m about to tell him I’m nowhere near ready for that, when he passes my room and goes to the back door that leads out to the screened-in patio. He clicks on the heating lamp and sits us on the bench-swing Gertrude left, grabbing the throw blanket I left out here and sliding it across our laps.
It’s a chilly night, but it feels like summertime between the heating lamp, the blanket, and Pierce holding me in his arms.
We sway in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the quiet. He snuggles me closer, and my head goes to his shoulder as I sigh into his side, soaking in his warmth and comfort. I’ve never felt like this before, so safe and protected. His job scares the hell out of me, but I believe him when he says he’ll never hurt me, and he’ll always keep us safe. For so long, it felt like my life was filled with chaos, and many days it still does, but when I’m with Pierce, it’s as if everything calms, and I’m able to breathe.
“What’s going through your head?” Pierce asks, breaking through my thoughts. I glance up at him, our eyes locking, but instead of answering him, I do what I really want to do. Lifting my head, I lean in and brush my lips against his. They’re warm and strong, and when he kisses me back, they mold to mine like two pieces of a puzzle that fit perfectly together.
The kiss quickly intensifies, our tongues stroking each other’s. I moan into his mouth, desperate for more, and he lifts me into his lap, somehow managing to keep the blanket wrapped around us.
With my legs on either side of him, he tugs me closer. One hand wraps around my waist, and the other delves into my hair, holding my face to his. We kiss for God knows how long, making out like a couple of horny teenagers, and I love it. The simplicity of it, the connection I feel with him. When we break apart, I pout, not wanting it to end. Pierce must be on the same page as me because his lips trail down my jawline and neck, peppering kisses along my flesh that go straight through my body, ending at the apex of my legs.
“Pierce,” I gasp when my hips rock against his groin, and pleasure—enough to feel good but not enough to get me off—courses through me.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pulling my face down to his so our lips connect once again, his tongue delving into my mouth. He tastes like the perfect combination of lust, want, and need, and when he grips the curve of my hip, grinding me back and forth against his hardness, my body convulses as pleasure rushes through me. I’ve never come this hard in my life, and he hasn’t even taken my clothes off. I can’t imagine how intense it would be without our clothes on, neither of us holding back.