Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
A car rolls past. Someone shouts from the direction of the club. I’m only vaguely aware of the city around us. I’m too lost in this man as his hands possessively grip my ass and I find myself grinding in against him. It’s the sort of kiss I’ve never really had before in my life. All the men I’ve kissed before this one have been nervous and too gentle.
There’s nothing soft about Step.
He dominates me with this entire body. He runs a hand through my hair and grips it as he bites my lower lip. He peppers my neck with kisses right there on the sidewalk like he doesn’t give a damn if anyone walks past. He stares down into my eyes and I stare back at the most handsome, god-like man I’ve ever seen in my life.
“I’m going to take you home now,” he whispers, his other thumb brushing across my cheek. He pushes it into my mouth and I suck it, whimpering in surprise at how much it turns me on. “When we reach my house, I’m going to take you to my room. Then I’m going to strip off your clothes, put you on my bed, and stroke my cock while you get yourself off. When you’re right on the edge and moaning for more, you’ll suck my thick dick with those beautiful lips as you climax. Then I’ll fuck you and use you however I please until tomorrow morning. Do you understand me, little fencer? Now is your chance to back out.”
My breath comes ragged and broken. I can’t think of anything but the sequence he just laid out for me.
Expose myself to him. Touch myself until I come. Suck his cock. Then fuck him.
Lose myself for a night.
“Take me home,” I tell him.
The car comes a few minutes later. He ushers me into the back and keeps a hand on my thigh possessively the whole ride. The driver tries small talk but quickly gives up when he realizes Step isn’t in the mood and I’m too nervous to form a coherent sentence. We leave West Philly and head into Passyunk Square. Step’s house is right off the main strip. It’s an immaculately well-kept red brick home with a brown-and-tan bay window and a black door. He unlocks it, and for a second, I think this is a terrible idea.
I don’t know this man. Not really. I don’t know what he did back at the club, if he even did anything. I don’t know what he wants from me, if he wants something other than sex tonight. He could kill me in there; despite my fencing, I can’t actually defend myself from a man like him. Following him would be crazy.
And yet I do it anyway, because if I can marry a man without even knowing his name first, I can sleep with a stranger after having known him for all of a half hour.
“This way,” he says, tossing his keys on a side table. His place is pristine and shockingly beautiful. Dark hardwood floors, white walls covered in tasteful photographs of landscapes and city views. I’ve been around money my whole life, and this man has money. He might even be more comfortable than my father, and my father’s one of the most powerful men in the Marino Famiglia.
I want to ask him questions. What do you do for a living? What are your hobbies? You don’t like to murder girls, do you? But I keep my mouth shut as we head up the staircase.
I’m so nervous I could scream.
“I’ll give you another chance,” he says, turning to me at the top of the steps. “My room is through there. Once we cross that line, I won’t hold back. Are you sure about this, little fencer?”
“Assuming you’re not going to murder me when we’re done,” I say, trying to seem lighthearted and jokey, but I must sound like a lunatic.
“I’m not really in the mood to kill anyone tonight,” he says and brushes a thumb across my cheek. “Come take off your clothes.”
Then he steps into his room and leaves me on the threshold.
Chapter 3
Carmie
The room is surprisingly warm. Dark grays, browns, and navy blues. The bed is large with soft sheets and lots of pillows. Thick drapes cover the windows. It’s a masculine space, but a comfortable and reasonably well-decorated one.
But I have only a second to admire the room before I start watching him undress.
He’s a specimen. It’s unbelievable. His smirk is so disarming that I barely even wonder if I should be staring right now, but how can I take my eyes off him? Broad shoulders, sculpted chest, sun-kissed tan skin, and tattoos. So many freaking tattoos. Dark, dangerous tattoos. I know inked men—there are plenty of them in my life—but there’s something about his, like his body’s a mural. Snarling wolves, a gun with no trigger, roses wrapped around a knife along his ribs. He starts to take off his jeans but stops as my mouth opens and I lick my lips.