Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
I laugh but she silences me as she strokes her hand down my cheek. Her eyes dip to my lips and then back up to meet my gaze, as if she’s asking for permission, but I don’t respond. I want her to take what she wants.
Cupping my face, she licks across my bottom lip and it’s about the sexiest thing that’s ever happened to me. I feel myself thicken beneath her and I wish I had more self-control—I don’t want to put her off. Then she dips her tongue inside, just for a second, before pulling back and pressing her lips to mine. It’s like she’s hit the reset button.
I open my mouth a little and she captures my upper lip, nibbling and sucking before letting her tongue taste and explore.
I’ve never enjoyed a kiss so much. Never given up control of a kiss like this. But something tells me it’s what she needs.
Twenty
Zach
She stills and her mouth leaves mine. Is she expecting me to take over? I mirror her, wanting her to set the pace. She clearly bears scars from her last relationship, and I don’t want to do anything that would add to them or make them worse.
“You’re unbelievably sexy,” I whisper.
She pulls back to look at me, her expression incredulous. “I am?”
She shifts in my lap and I smooth my hands over her arse, then groan at the feel of her. Even fully clothed, there’s a softness to her.
“Absolutely you are.” How could she doubt it? “And that’s the best kiss I’ve ever had.”
She blushes and my chest expands with pride. I want to see more of that blush. More of that glow she gets when I give her a compliment.
I cup her face, sweeping my thumb over her cheekbone, and wonder what’s going to happen next. Whether this kiss was a precursor to more, or whether I’ll have to try and get content with the best kiss of my life.
“We should wash up,” she says. “Or I can do it. You’ve been busy all—”
“You’re not washing up right now, and neither am I. It can wait.”
She glances over at the sink as if she’s expecting the dishes to argue with me.
“You want to grab our wine and sit in front of the fire?” I ask, fighting the urge to lift her up, carry her into the bedroom, and start work on her body—pulling out all the sounds I know she’s capable of making.
“Is that what you want to do?” she asks.
I laugh. She doesn’t want to hear what I want to do to her. “What do you want to do?”
She sighs and squirms, like she might be able to read my mind. Fuck, I’ve got to get a grip. I have so much pent-up need for this woman, I feel like I’m about to burst.
“I want you to kiss me,” she whispers.
I meet her gaze and she pokes her tongue out and wets her lips as if preparing herself. I slide my hand into her hair and guide her head to mine. Our mouths meet and I take the opportunity to taste her, explore her, devour her.
Animal instinct takes over and I stand, holding her, and turn to sit her on the counter. I’m semi-aware of things hitting the floor, but nothing seems to break. I work down her neck, sucking and licking. When I get to her collarbone, I realize I have to stop.
I pull my mouth away and brace myself against the counter, my hands either side of her. “Fuck. I need to cool off.”
“I can’t remember kissing ever being like this,” she says.
Kissing isn’t usually like this, I don’t say. I don’t want to say anything I don’t mean, and I don’t want to come across as a guy who’ll say anything to get a gorgeous woman naked. I don’t want it to sound like a line, because it’s not. It’s a truth that feels like it’s branded onto my skin. She feels too good. Better. Different than anything I’ve ever felt before.
Maybe it’s because it’s just kissing, and for the first time in a long time, I don’t know if there’s anything else after the kissing.
She threads her fingers through my hair. “Let’s go and check the fire.”
An intermission, a break—good. As long as it’s not the end.
I hold her hand as she slips from the counter and I can’t take my eyes off her. It’s like every movement is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Every glance, every touch is like magic.
What’s the matter with me?
I take our wine from the table and she leads the way into the living room. The fire’s still going, but I throw on a couple more logs. Not that we need any more heat in this room.
“So you’d never been to this place before you came up to edit your book?” she asks.