Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
I hear a low rumble from his chest and let my eyes flutter closed, waiting for the soft brush of his lips against mine.
His lips crash against mine, and I barely have time to register the scratch of his beard against my skin before I moan, giving his tongue access to mine. I drop the bottles of water I was holding and wrap my arms around his neck. The lick of his tongue into my mouth can be felt all the way to my core, the echo of his licks settling there.
Jesus, I’ve never been so aroused in my life.
I take that back, because when he hitches my leg up high on his hip and rolls his hips against my center, I grow even needier. The feel of his hardness against my delicate flesh is the most erotic thing I’ve felt in my life.
He pulls his mouth from mine, and I whimper. His mouth makes contact with my neck, licking, sucking. I lace my fingers in the fabric of his shirt and pull him harder against me. I have no idea what I’m doing, but somehow instinct has taken over. I rotate my hips against him, needing more than he’s giving.
“Touch me,” I pant as his teeth graze the delicate skin of my shoulder. Where, I don’t even care. Cup my face, squeeze my ass, strip me down and take me on one of the kitchen tables. At this point, I’m not picky in the slightest.
His mouth stops, and he pulls back slightly. He looks at my face, and as if reassessing what we’ve just done he takes another step back, breaking his contact with my body.
“I can’t, Khloe.” My face falls and tears sting the back of my eyes.
This has everything to do with my age and nothing to do with how he really feels and what he wants to do to me. I glance down, his hard erection straining in his jeans confirms that fact.
“I won’t tell anyone,” I barter.
“But I’ll know.” His face is full of need, but resolve is there as well. “It’s only a month,” he says as if he needs to convince himself.
“Seems like forever,” I say dropping my head and bending down to get the bottles of water that rolled away during our passionate, yet short lived kiss.
Tired of not knowing what is actually going on between us I decide to take a leap. “What is this,” I say motioning between us.
“I don’t know,” he says scrubbing his hand over his face.
“Are you waiting for me?”
“I won’t touch you until you turn eighteen, Khloe.”
I give him a slight nod, kiss his cheek, and walk away. Not exactly the answer I was wanting. I didn’t expect him to profess his undying love for me, but I was hoping he’d confirm that the only thing keeping us from being together is the twenty-six days until my eighteenth birthday.
Chapter 20
Kid
A week and a half. Khloe has been at the clubhouse eleven days. Two hundred and sixty-four hours of absolute torture. Fifteen-thousand eight-hundred-forty seconds of damn near irresistible temptation.
I’ve held her in my arms every night since the kiss in the kitchen. I’ve kissed her lips sweetly, just like the first two times I had my lips on hers. Just when I think my resolve is ironclad, she wakes up and rubs herself against my legs, or says something suggestive in my ear. Her sleeping attire has grown increasingly smaller, but I’ve stuck to requiring she sleep under the covers and I sleep on top.
I woke up this morning to her stroking her fingers up and down my abdomen, coming within an inch of my straining morning wood. I told her to stop, and she wasn’t very happy about it. We argued about her age and why I’m not going to touch her until she’s eighteen.
She argued that it’s inevitable, and we might as well go all the way. I insisted that we wait. She smiled, and I thought I’d convinced her. Then she told me to leave, and not to come back until I was willing to put my hands on her in some other place than her back or arms.
Now I’m sitting in the main room watching her flirt with Snatch. Seems he’s not as scary as she originally thought. In this moment, I wish he was a giant asshole, but I know he’s one of the nicest guys we have in the clubhouse. I’m grateful she’s chosen him to try to make me jealous.
I was on to her plan the minute she chose to sit with him, rather than curl up beside me like she has been doing. I chuckled to myself at first. She may only be seventeen, but she has the woman scorned routine down pat.
One beer, while watching her smile up at him, turned into more than half a dozen by the time she was brazen enough to start running her fingers up his forearm. I know exactly what that feels like. My body remembers her touch more than anything I’ve ever felt.