Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
“It is. I see why you’ve been so excited to visit.”
I look over my shoulder and find his eyes on me, not the lights outside. “You look worried.”
“I’m not sure if I can trust myself with you tonight. You might have to tie me to the bed so I keep my hands to myself.”
“If that’s what you want.” I stick out my tongue.
“No, Shayleigh. That’s not what I want.”
“But you only kissed me the once when you got here.”
He frowns. “You’re broken-hearted. I want to be a better guy than the one who takes advantage of the pretty girl on the rebound.”
“My heart’s not broken, Easton.” I shake my head. “I’m pissed off, and my pride is bruised, but Steve and I grew apart months ago. We’d planned for this trip for so long, I think both of us were just trying to hold on until we made it through. The suckiest thing about it was his timing, but now I’m riding around Paris with Easton Connor and I’m liking the way things turned out.”
He skims his fingers down my arm. “Then come here.”
I scoot over in the seat and angle my body toward his.
“Closer,” he says.
I scoot more, until my thigh presses against his.
He smiles. “Still not close enough.”
I laugh. “To get any closer, I’d have to sit in your lap.”
His hands go to my waist. “That’s a plan I can get on board with.”
I stiffen. I’m all too aware of the thirty pounds I’ve gained in the last two years and of the fact that I wasn’t small to begin with. But rather than ruin this, I pull my legs under myself on the seat. I grip his shoulders as I straddle him, trying to keep my weight on my knees so I don’t crush him.
His hands cup my jaw. His eyes dip to my cleavage. And if I didn’t know better, I’d think I’d become someone else—that I had a different face, a different body. The way he looks at me makes me feel beautiful. When he kisses me, I liquify and forget all my insecurities.
He slides his hands down my back to my ass, tugging me tighter against him until I can feel the long ridge of his erection through my jeans. “Do you remember that night in your room?” he whispers, his breath warm in my ear.
Do I remember? Hell, it’s moved from memory to my favorite fantasy. I wonder how many times I’ve relived that night in my brain. “Of course I do.”
“I almost left as soon as you fell back asleep.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted more. And I thought you might give it to me. And then I’d hate myself.”
I run my fingers down the line of his jaw. He hasn’t shaved since before he flew here, and rough stubble abrades my fingertips. “I would’ve given you anything.” The idea is terrifying. He touched me and made me come, and I was ready to throw away my plans and move across the country to chase him. If we’d made love that night, I would’ve been a mess.
“I never expected you to wait for me, but I hate that he got that piece of you.”
I turn, watching the lights flash by outside my window. “Is this about my virginity? Was that first time a guy was inside me somehow more important than what I can offer now?”
“No. I’m just jealous, Shay. Jealous as fuck that the timing was right for you and him and not for you and me.” He cups my face. “Jealous that no matter what happens tonight, when you go home it’ll still be easier for you to be with him than me.”
Easton is jealous of Steve. This baffles me. Half of my brain is convinced this is a dream. The other half is pretty sure I’ve somehow slipped into an alternate reality. “I wanted more that night too,” I whisper. Because in this timeline, I get to say exactly what I’m thinking. “You touched me, and then I wanted to . . .” I swallow. “I wanted more.”
His lips brush mine, then open, and he sucks at my bottom lip. When he tilts his head and nibbles up my neck, shivers of pleasure race along my skin. He flicks my earlobe with his tongue before sucking it between his teeth. I lean into him, half mortified by the moan that slips from my mouth. He wraps me up tighter.
I close my eyes, afraid the moment might disappear if I focus too intently on anything. If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up.
The car stops too soon, and I reluctantly drag myself off Easton’s lap just as the driver opens the door.
“Le Pavillon de la Reine,” he says. “Sir, your bags have already been taken to your room.”
I climb out, and Easton follows me, taking my hand and leading me into the beautiful old building and up the stairs. He uses his key to unlock the room and holds the door open for me.