Total pages in book: 8
Estimated words: 7407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 37(@200wpm)___ 30(@250wpm)___ 25(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 7407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 37(@200wpm)___ 30(@250wpm)___ 25(@300wpm)
“Is this a touchy subject for you?”
“Of course, it is,” I begin, but he cuts me off with a kiss.
“I think you misunderstand me, Lauren. I want to be the only one to look at you,” he says.
“Oh,” I say, smiling. Just like that, my attitude changes. “I don’t see how I can stop people from looking at me, but I might be able to let you see something that no one else ever has.”
“And what’s that?”
“Me,” I say, shrugging.
“Are you saying that you are pure? I lick my lips and nod. “Fuck, girl.”
“What?” I ask shrugging. I know exactly what I am doing. In theory, anyway.
“I’m going to marry you,” he says, chuckling.
“You haven’t even asked. I don’t know what you do for a living or where you live.”
“I’ll ask properly soon. I live in Washington, DC, currently, but I was born in New York. I am a senator from the great state of New York.”
“A slimy politician?” I ask frowning. Iowa isn’t immune to politicians, with the caucuses and all.
“Not slimy.”
“That’s what all slimy politicians say,” I say, giggling.
“I promise that’s not me, Lauren.” The way he says it makes me believe him. Then he kisses me again. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I grind into him, moaning. It’s like I can’t control myself anymore. The man is arrogant and infuriating, but it doesn’t matter. He’s gonna be mine. I just know it.
“I believe that,” I say when he lets me breathe again.
All around us, people start counting down to 2021.
“Spend the rest of your life with me, Lauren?” he says. It’s both a question and a statement.
“Ten!”
“Nine!”
“Eight!”
“Seven!”
“Six!”
“Five!”
“Four!”
“Three!”
“Two!”
“One!”
“One,” he repeats, expectantly at the same I do. Then his lips are on mine again. It feels like the first and last New Year’s kisser I’ll ever know, and that makes me happier than I have ever been.
“Happy New Year,” he murmurs.
“Happy New Year,” I repeat.
“Answer me, Little Lauren. Say, yes.”
“We don’t know each other, Alejandro.”
“Don’t we?”
“No. We really don’t.”
“We have the rest of our lives to find out.”
“But my life is here.”
“Let’s worry about that later, mi corazón.”
My Spanish is shaky at best, but even I know that means my heart. He called me his heart. He’s smooth, but even I don’t think that’s something he’s ever said to another woman, and that makes me happier than I can say.
“Okay. Yes. We’ll worry about that later, mi rey,” I agree. Calling him my king is not something I take lightly, but it fits us.
“Mi reina,” he murmurs against my neck.
“Are you at the bed and breakfast?” I ask, thinking that’s the only place we’ll get any privacy.
“Yes, but I’m afraid that I don’t know where it is.”
Silently, I lead him by the hand, away from the party and toward the tiny hotel.
Good thing I believe in love at first sight, or what I’m about to let happen never would.
Chapter Three
Alejandro
I let out my breath in a whoosh. I didn’t realize that I had been holding in. I thought she’d turn me down, but as I lead her up the stairs to my room, I don’t think there was ever a chance of that happening. The warmth in the room is welcome as I left my coat on the plane. The fire going in the fireplace is a nice touch. I help her out of her jacket, my fingers skimming her bare arms as I do. The little goosebumps on her skin make me hope I am affecting her in more ways than one.
“You’re cold,” I say when she shivers.
“No,” she says, shaking her head, her blonde hair cascading out of the hair clip she’s wearing.
“Do I make you nervous, Little Lauren?”
“Yes,” she breathes, her cheeks flushing.
“What are we going to do about that?” I ask, and she shrugs her shoulders. I toss her coat on the chair by the fire and crowd her space.
“I’m sure you have some ideas,” she says, giggling. Her little giggle goes straight to my balls. My dick is hard as a rock, desperate for her.
“I definitely do, Little Lauren,” I whisper.
“Why do you call me that?” she asks as she slides my suit jacket down my arms.
“Because I am a good foot and a half taller than you are.”
“Well, I think you are going to be a little taller than that,” she says, stepping out of her shiny black high heels, tossing my jacket over her coat. She’s about six inches shorter than I thought she was. All it succeeds in doing is making me want to protect her. Take her away from this place and lock her away in my house.
I peel her dress from her body, letting it pool at her feet. She steps out of it; her matching pink and white bra and panties look too innocent for what’s about to happen. Reaching behind her, I unhook her bra and toss it away. With a flick of her wrist, she pulls open my bow tie and deftly unbuttons my shirt, throwing both to the ground. She looks me in the eye while she opens my belt and pants, shoving them down. I kick my shoes away, as well as my pants.