Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 31113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 156(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 156(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
"She's the reason you were in the club, isn't she?"
I pause mid-step, glancing down at her.
"Just a guess." She peeks up at me through her lashes, smiling. "I know she's been living with you. You said you were looking for someone, and you seemed stressed out about it. I have an older brother. No one stresses an older brother out faster than a younger sister doing something she shouldn't."
"Shit," I mutter, pulling her into the living room. "Yeah, I thought she was at the club. Turns out, I was wrong. Now she's mad at me for getting my panties in a wad and staying with a friend in town."
Jamie laughs quietly, her dimples flashing. "She'll forgive you."
"Or she'll tell Ma, and Ma will kick my ass," I mutter, grabbing the television remote off the coffee table. "Then she'll gloat for a few days and forgive me."
"Or that," Jamie agrees, laughing again. "We do love to play the mom card."
"Here." I pull Jamie down onto the couch with me, dragging her onto my lap.
"Jonas," she whispers.
"Sit," I growl, grasping her hip when she tries to slide off my lap.
She immediately settles. Interesting. I don't think my girl was entirely honest with herself about why she went to Dionysus last night. She may not be interested in most of the shit that goes on there, but she's got a few kinks she's ripe to explore. I file that information away to explore later and drag her back against me.
She's rigid on my lap, sitting with her back ramrod straight.
I set the remote on the arm of the couch and readjust her, draping her over my lap so that her legs stretch across the sofa. She shoots me a haughty glare, but she doesn't stop me. She can't hide the way she trembles when I touch her, either. She wants me. She fucking loves that I'm touching her. She's just afraid to admit how much she likes it.
"You smell like heaven," I murmur, nuzzling my face into her mass of hair. I breathe her in, letting her scent work its way through my system. "Every damn time I breathed last night, I smelled you on me, baby girl."
"I s-smelled you too."
"Yeah? Did it drive you crazy, angel?" I wrap my tongue around the shell of her ear, unable to resist. I want to taste every inch of her body. I've wanted it for months. I'm not denying myself anymore, and neither is she. Fuck what anyone else has to say about us. We're happening. Their opinions don't matter. They never did.
Had I known months ago that she wanted the same thing I did, nothing would have stopped me from claiming her. But I didn't know. I thought I was the only one suffering. I thought I wanted what I couldn't have. I was wrong about that. She was never off-limits. I was just an idiot. It's a failing of mine. Being an idiot. Doing stupid shit.
No more. Well, okay. I'll probably still do plenty of stupid shit. I get bored, and things happen. It is what it is. But not when it comes to her. My teammates call me a crazy Canadian. I'm ready to unleash all of it on this woman to make her mine.
"Yes," she whispers, a mere scrap of sound that makes my cock throb beneath her.
"You drove me fucking wild," I admit in a rasp, dragging my lips down the side of her throat. "I had to think about Gray with hives on his ass to lose the erection you caused, Jamie. You had me hard for twelve fucking hours, baby girl."
"I'm sorry," she whimpers, her hands flexing against my sides.
"I jerked off four times."
"Jonas."
"Turn on the television."
"W-what?"
"Pick up the remote and turn on the television."
She reaches for the remote with shaking hands, stabbing the button to power on the flatscreen. The display lights up, and the navigation menu pops up.
"DVR," I growl, nipping at her throat as I glide my hands up and down her sides, deftly undoing the buttons on her blazer. The fucking thing is in the way, standing between me and what I really want. The buttons slip through the eyelets one by one as she navigates to the DVR menu.
"W-what am I looking for?" she whispers and then moans when the last button slips free, and I peel the damn blazer halfway down her arms. The camisole beneath is soft pink silk. Her skin is even softer.
"You'll know when you see it." I run my lips across her bare shoulder, marveling at how damn soft and sweet she is. Even here, where her shoulder blade curves into her upper arm, she's soft. And yet she's a warrior too, fearlessly chasing a dream in a field that says she doesn't belong and isn't wanted. One that says she's unwelcome, incapable of doing more than reporting on bullshit gossip. She keeps her head up no matter what this field throws at her. No matter how much shit we give her.