Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 123672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 495(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 495(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
“No pressure, babe. Just telling you how it is,” I say, stopping in the street outside her apartment complex and meeting her stare. “It’s simple. I want you, and I know you want me too, but you’re not ready. So until then, we’ll fuck. We’ll have fun, screw around with other people, and then one day, maybe a few years from now, you’ll come and tell me that you’re done with the bullshit.”
“But you’re already done with the bullshit,” she says. “It makes me feel like I’m forcing you to wait for something you want now when there’s probably some other gorgeous woman out there who’s willing to give you that without all the screwing around.”
“You’re right. There are,” I tell her, not willing to be dishonest with her. “But no matter how much they want to throw themselves at me, I don’t want what they can offer me. I want you.”
“Damn it, Crew,” she groans. “Why can’t this be easy? Why’d you have to go and blur the lines?”
“Oh, my sweet little Kyah. I think you’re underestimating just how much fun blurred lines can be,” I tell her, placing my hand on her lower back and leading her toward the door of the apartment complex and hashing in the access code.
Once we’re inside, I pull her aside, pressing her back up against the wall and leaning into her, my nose skimming along the sensitive skin beneath her ear and feeling the way she shudders under my hold. “Blurred lines means that when I’m at work and have been watching you bending over your clients all day, I don’t have to just think about taking you out back and fucking you until your tight little cunt is squeezing around my cock, I actually get to do it. I get to throw you up on the hood of my truck, part your pretty thighs, and fuck you with my tongue, bend you over your kitchen counter, or take you in the shower. Anything you want.”
“Anything I want?” she asks, panting heavily.
I nod. “Anything.”
“Right now?”
I grind my hips into her, letting her know just how fucking ready I am for her. “Right fucking now.”
“Good,” she breathes, her hand slipping up beneath the fabric of my shirt and pressing against my bare chest. “In that case, I need you to take me up to my apartment and throw me around like a fucking ragdoll. I need you to fuck me, Crew. In all the ways you just said. I want to feel your tongue working through my slit. I want you to make me sweat.”
My cock becomes painfully hard and I growl deep in my chest, her words the sweetest music to my ears. Then without even a second of hesitation, I grab her hips and haul her over my shoulder, taking her ass upstairs and hoping like fuck this new prick who lives across the hallway hears every fucking second of it.
8
KYAH
I swear, tequila is the devil’s lifeblood. What the hell was I thinking going so hard last night? My head aches, and I’m pretty sure I’m about to see the contents of my stomach. But hell, when having to face Crew and his demands for our future together, tequila is a necessity. Even though I feel awful this morning, I can’t bring myself to regret my night.
A lot was said last night, words that can’t be taken back, but as long as he knows where I stand and is able to respect those boundaries, then we should be okay. I just hope these next few years waiting for me won’t destroy him. It almost makes me feel guilty for not being ready for a life with him. The last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt him.
But what if he finds someone else during that time and I foolishly missed my chance? Or what if those few years pass and I find that I’m still not ready to make a life with him? So much could go wrong. People change. Their hearts change, and their wants and needs change right along with it. To be completely honest, while I know how incredible we’d be together, I just don’t know if I want that . . . not yet at least.
Glancing at the clock, I realize I’m going to be late for my first client if I don’t get a move on, and as I roll over in bed, I let out a sigh of relief, finding Crew already long gone. My hand stretches out over his side of the bed and finds it cold, as though it hadn’t even been slept in, and honestly, I really don’t know if it had. As soon as he finished rocking my world in a way it’s never been rocked before, I passed out.
Considering everything we talked about at the bar, I wouldn’t be surprised to find he had left last night. Once a line has been drawn, he’s usually good at respecting them, and he’d already pushed my boundaries enough last night. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to then go and make me pull away by staying the night.