Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
The desire I’ve been missing flares in his eyes, and although I know I should be the one pumping the brakes because this interaction is sure to leave me a sobbing mess on the floor, I just can’t seem to do it.
He lifts me a little higher, his hot, perfect mouth capturing the tip of my breast, but he releases it with a pop far too soon.
“The other one is jealous,” I tease, rolling my opposite shoulder in his direction.
“This isn’t working for me.”
Crash and burn.
I didn’t think there was a single thing on this earth that could dampen my passion for this man, but here we are.
“Put me down,” I snap.
He doesn’t listen, however.
He carries me across the room and locks his arms around my waist as he sits on the sofa, me now straddling his lap.
“I don’t want to just fuck you.”
“Then don’t just fuck me. As I recall, you’re decently talented with your tongue.”
He shakes his head, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Then let me go, Spade. I’m not going to beg you to fuck me.”
His smile grows wider. “You will beg, but that’s not what this is about.”
“You egotistical asshole.” He captures my wrist before I can slap him across the face.
He’s not exactly disinterested, gauging by the thickness still pressing against the apex of my thighs.
“I want to spend more time with you.”
“And here I am, practically naked and you want to talk.”
His hands cup my jaw. “There will be plenty of fucking, Sylvie. Don’t doubt it, but I’m saying I want more.”
I shake my head, wondering how crazy I’d look if I pinched myself in front of him. Many of the fantasies I’ve had of him start this way, but they never end with me smiling.
“You’re all I fucking think about.” He presses his finger to my lips when I open my mouth to speak. “And not just about getting you naked and making you beg for my cock either. I think of holding you, arguing with you, waking up with you in my arms. I’m not fucking running anymore, Sylvie. I want you in my life, in my bed.”
“I never wanted that,” I confess.
I wasn’t just putting on a front with Faith before she settled down with Legend. I wanted fun and freedom.
Wanted being the key word. Things have changed for me because of him.
He nods his head, misunderstanding what I’m saying.
“No,” I tell him when he tries to move me off his lap. “I didn’t want any of those things until you stayed here with me after Telluride.”
“What are you saying?” His eyes search mine.
“What are you saying?” I counter because I’ll be damned if I make a fool of myself right now.
“I want you.”
I shake my head. “Do better.”
“I need you.”
“That’s getting closer.”
His eyes lock on mine, his fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of my neck.
“I love you.”
“Yeah?” I manage, a sob threatening to bubble out of my throat.
He nods. “What do you have to say about that?”
“I want you to stay the night.”
His brows crease.
“I need you to reach that spot in the middle of my back in the shower.”
He gnaws on the corner of his lip to keep from smiling.
“Keep going,” he urges when I grow quiet.
“I love the way you fuck me.”
His eyes narrow. “You aren’t going to say it back?”
“The last time I gave you exactly what you wanted, you forgot me. Do you really think I’m dumb enough to do it again?”
“Because you don’t love me?”
“I’m not saying it.”
“You’re fucking stubborn.”
I shrug. “You love me anyway.”
His lips find mine, and I feel his words in the kiss, in the warmth of his hands as he runs them along my back.
I do love the man, and I know I’ll say the words eventually, but I also want to punish him a little for staying away so long. I don’t want to even think about all the time we’ve missed together.
“Lift up,” he urges as his fingers attempt to work open his jeans.
“Getting sloppy in your old age?” I tease. “A couple months ago you would’ve been able to lift me with one hand.”
“You feel heavier.”
I gasp, my hand immediately lifting to cup his jaw. “Do you want to have blue balls?”
He shakes his head, his smile wide and carefree.
“They’re going to be purple from smacking against your ass too much. Seriously. I need a few more inches.”
“That’s what she said,” I mutter, squealing in the next second because he manages to not only lift me from his lap but lay me out on the damn living room floor.
“You’ve never complained about my size or length,” he says, a lot of attention on moving his jeans and boxer briefs down his thighs.
“It’s rude to point out deficiencies that people can’t change.”
His fingers freeze on the waistband of my panties.