Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 120631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 603(@200wpm)___ 483(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 603(@200wpm)___ 483(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
“What else do you want?” she snapped, as if this was some big inconvenience.
He dragged his thumb over her lips and pressed his mouth to hers. “Kiss me back.” The order whispered against her locked lips. “Like you mean it.”
Squeezing her eyes shut because it somehow made it easier to bear herself, she relented. It would have been easy to hate him if he kissed her roughly, but he was set on destroying her today, and he took her mouth with absolute tenderness.
The backs of his fingers caressed her cheek as his tongue teased past her lips, delving deeper in a duel of desire and affection. It was too personal, too intimate, so she turned away.
“No.” He cupped her jaw. “I need this.”
Her eyes burned with the sting of tears. Why was he doing this? The kiss softened, but the intensity of his wanting never relented. On the contrary, it doubled.
Every soft swipe of his tongue was a line of poetry, confessing unspoken affections she’d rather keep locked away.
“That’s it.” His thrusts slowed to long, pervading revolutions. “I fucking love your mouth…”
He kissed her like a thirsting man savors water in a barren desert. Greedy beyond what he could handle, then overwhelmed by the pleasure and gasping for air.
He dropped his head to her shoulder, burying his face in her neck, pulling her closer to him, refusing to let her go.
She sensed him getting tired, but if he tried to change positions, she’d escape. Then he’d be back to Shalimar or Chanel No. 5 or perhaps some new French perfume in his rotation.
The thought of the other women killed her desire, replacing it with something sharp she couldn’t quite name. “Get off of me.”
“Not yet—”
She shoved his shoulder, coming back into herself. “Now. Get off. You’re crushing me.”
“Jocelyn, we’re not done—”
“I’m done.” She turned, twisting out from under him and rolling off the bed to stand. Her tender ankle protested at the weight, but she refused to sit. “You need to leave.”
“Wait. What—”
“I want you to leave, Soren. This is my home. You broke in. You fucked me. And now, I want—”
“Jocelyn, wait—”
“No!” Her voice broke with an embarrassing crack, but she recovered quickly, needing to say her piece. “We can’t do this anymore. You were on a date last night. And you’ll go on another one in a few days. Why the hell are you even here? What do you want? Is it to fuck me? Is it to know I’m okay? I’m fine! I don’t need you stopping by or bothering me—”
“Bothering you?”
“Yes, bothering me! You’re a disruption. A pain in my ass. And you have no reason to keep inserting yourself into my life.”
He went completely still. No comeback. No nasty remark about her being a brat. He just stood there, shirtless, while she seethed at him in her panties. He studied her like an annoying math problem he couldn’t solve. Her words might have been harsh, but she needed to say them. She needed to protect herself from whatever this was because lord fucking knew no one else was coming to take care of her.
Finally, he said in a calm, soft voice, “Nothing happened last night.”
“Sure.” A lump formed in her throat, and it was only a matter of time before her eyes burned again.
“I swear, Joce. After dinner, I drove her home and went back to my place. Alone.”
She turned away from him to hide her face as she shut her eyes. “Please just go.”
“I can’t leave you like this. We didn’t even finish—”
“Is that what this is?” She spun on him. “You need to come? Jesus Christ, Soren, go jerk off!”
“No, that’s not what this is!” he yelled back. “We need to talk. Fucking talk, like rational adults who aren’t about to strangle each other.”
Her stare dashed to the floor. “I have nothing to say to you.”
“Well, I have shit to say to you and, for once, you’re going to listen.”
She scoffed, pinning him with a narrow stare. “Your sense of entitlement is stunning.”
“I have shit to say.”
“Does it ever occur to you that your feelings aren’t the only ones that matter? I have a life. I have a job and obligations. My world is not made up of waiting through your absences so I can make myself available whenever you need a stress outlet to fuck. If you have something to say, tell a therapist.”
He laughed, the sound cold and mocking. “You think I come here to relieve stress? That’s fucking rich, Joce. You’re the most stressful woman I’ve ever met in my life.”
She swallowed, not bothering to deny the truth. She knew what a handful she could be. There was no point in denying it. “No one makes you come here, Soren. It’s a choice. And it’s yours—every time.”
He massaged the bridge of his nose and muttered a curse under his breath. “I fucking know it’s my choice. I’m aware of my culpability in…” He waved his hand between them in a frustrated motion. “…this. Us. But I didn’t get here on my own. That first night, that was you, Joce. I tried to do the right thing. I tried to be a gentleman.”