Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
“Five days. Two people just enjoying each other, like you said.”
She’s shivering. Is it with nerves or desire? Either way, that’s not gonna cut it, my brain supplies. I manage to halt the message before it reaches my mouth as I fold my arms around her, grasping for something else to say. Something that isn’t going to frighten her the fuck away.
How about yes. Say yes, fuckhead.
She feels like she belongs in here, in the circle of my arms. Can’t she feel that? Can’t she let her guard down? Let me in. Not just into your body, but your heart. Let our skin meld and our souls fuse.
“It’s what you offered,” she repeats, filling the pause, as though I need persuading.
I stifle a sigh. I may be rock hard, but I know we’re destined for more. That we deserve to be more.
“Yeah, I know.” I also know that sex can be a gateway to more. Just look at Evie and Oliver. Despite the official story behind their meeting, I know they fucked the day she said “I don’t” to the tool she was previously engaged to.
“Don’t worry,” Mila whispers. “I won’t get attached. I know you’re not the type to settle down. And I have too much going on in my life right now to be serious about anyone.”
I know she’s pressed herself this close to prevent me from seeing her face, from reading her expression. But that works both ways, because that arrow landed hard.
Fuck me, but don’t love me. That’s usually my line. It’s what I tell women up front. What a turnup for the books. Or a kick in the guts.
“Not that I’m suggesting you’d be interested in more,” she adds softly.
I tighten my hold on her, mentally kicking myself for not answering. “Hush. Any man would be honored to be part of your life. You’re special, Mila.” I feel her bristle, but I carry on anyway. “You need to believe that about yourself.”
“You’re sweet.”
“Sweet and nice?”
Her body moves against mine with a giggle. I close my eyes and swallow back a moan.
“What if it turns out to be more than sex?” says sad-sack Fin as he finds his voice.
“It won’t be,” she says, pressing her lips to my still-slick chest. “Because it can’t be. We’re just too different, you and me. Beyond the physical, we don’t even like each other. Not really.” The latter falls flat, despite her joking delivery.
My heart dips. Is that what she thinks, or is it what she’s telling herself? People who don’t like each other don’t behave like we do. The opposite of like, of love, is indifference, not an electric attraction.
“I thought we were friends.”
“Well, maybe you like me just a little bit,” she says, tracing the outline of my nipple. “And I’ve already told you what I like.”
My cock throbs, and I swallow thickly. This is going to be over before it begins, if I’m not careful. It’s been years since I was reduced to distracting myself from nutting by silently reciting multiplication tables.
“The things that I think about,” she whispers. “The things I haven’t . . . Would you . . . would you do those things with me?”
My brain shuts off. Shuts down—a misfire in its cerebral wiring as I imagine just that. Before it can reboot, Mila pulls back. Her dark lashes flutter as her fingers, five points of aching-hot contact, sear my skin. She tips onto her toes, and I groan as she presses her soft lips to the base of my throat.
“Teach me how,” she whispers. “Please?”
I feel it all—feel everything. Her breath before it leaves her lips. The brush of her hair under my chin, the press of her fingers and the skim of her hip.
Her touch is tender as it slides down my chest. Then farther, causing my abs to tense, my mind going hazy around the edges, my whole body quivering like a struck tuning fork.
And that’s before she takes my cock in her hand.
“Tell me what you like,” she murmurs, teasing my crown with the tips of her fingers. “I want to make this good for you.”
Jesus Christ. Who’s teaching who?
I come back to myself and fist my hand in the back of her hair. Her eyes turn to night, her shocked gasp reverberating through to my bones. “If your hands are on me, if you’re touching me, I like it. Got that?”
She nods her agreement—winces—her posture softening as I lower my mouth to hers.
“Anything I do that you don’t like? You only have to say so.”
“Five days,” she whispers, her words feathering my lips. And mine hers.
“Five days,” I agree. “I’m going to pick you apart bit by bit. Find out what you really like.” Become your new addiction and never let you leave.
I slide my lips over hers, inhaling her soft sigh of acceptance. Light touches and caressing tongue, I stoke this fire between us as her hand slips around my neck once more. Her hips tilting to the hard press of me, light turning to dark, heat flaring between us as I deepen my kiss.