Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 131271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
His hand slips from mine, and the next moment, his arms are around me, pulling me close until I’m pressed against his chest, wrapped in his warmth. One of his hands still clutches his sweater, leaving just the thin fabric of his white t-shirt between us and the crisp bite of the fall air. But he doesn’t notice—or maybe he just doesn’t care. All that matters is how he’s holding me like I’m the only thing keeping him grounded.
It’s like he wants to pull me inside his body and envelop me with his masculine strength. It’s not something I’ve ever experienced, but I like it a lot. We’re all grabby hands and clashing teeth, a frenzy of contact that shouldn’t be so easy with someone new. He presses open-mouthed kisses to my neck and cheek until my breasts ache and my panties are damp, and I’m frantic for more contact.
I can tell he doesn’t want to interrupt the moment, but we can’t stand here like this with people passing by. We need to go somewhere for more privacy, or we need to just cut it out.
I should tell him to stop. I should remind him that this isn’t right. We should stick to friendship because of our shared history. But I can’t find the strength or the will to pull away.
“Hayes,” I groan as he squeezes a handful of my ass. “We need to…”
“Yeah. Right.” His cheeks are as flushed as mine as he glances down the street, then tugs me after him.
He has an old blue truck that suits his ruggedness and size. He opens the passenger door, helps me up, and then shuts me securely inside. I take a deep breath, trying to still my frantically beating heart.
What am I doing?
The question slices through my sex-fogged mind, but I’m no clearer on an answer when Hayes folds himself into the driver’s seat and shuts us into a space that smells of him.
We face each other, and it’s as though we’re both dazed and confused. Then, like we’re tethered to each other, and someone yanked the strings, we’re on each other again. In the darkness and isolation of the vehicle, every sensation is heightened. With virtually no effort at all, Hayes hauls me into his lap until my knees press into the seat next to his hips, and we’re mashing our bodies together.
The heat that radiates off him could power a city, and I start to sweat in my coat, quickly shoving it from my shoulders so I can breathe. His hands are under my clothes, palms rough and urgent, seeking out my softness. He cups my breasts, pushing them together and pressing his face into my cleavage, panting against my skin. Between my legs, the thick rod of his cock is insistent, nudging my pussy until I’m shifting my hips, chasing any kind of pressure.
“Riley,” he groans, yanking the cups of my bra over my soft flesh. My nipples are hard peaks, and he finds one with his mouth, almost swallowing it whole with his lustful eagerness. His mouth is wet and hungry. So hungry, I feel the rough tug like there’s a connection directly to my clit.
“Hayes, fuck.” I arch my back, not caring that my jeans squash my stomach or that my bra is awkwardly cutting into my breasts. I don’t care that anyone could pass and witness what we’re doing because it’s so damned good.
Mouth still busy, his hands drop to my hips, grinding me into his cock. My body sings yes, yes, yes, with every thrusting motion, and for the first time in my life, I believe I might be able to come with someone else rather than alone.
“Don’t stop,” I cry, gripping the headrest and bouncing more vigorously. If Hayes was smaller, I’d worry that it’d be too much, but Hayes can take my weight and size. He can handle my curves and my enthusiasm.
Stars gather on my periphery, like a Milky Way, threatening to steal my sanity and pull it within a vortex. I’m close. So damned close that when Hayes bites down on my nipple, his restraint lost, I lose myself to a release so sweet, I’m singing with pleasure.
“Fuck, Riley. Fuck.”
As I slacken in Hayes’ arms, he thrusts his hips, mashing his huge dick against the crotch of my jeans. When I realize what he’s doing, I come around and press my hand against his chest. “Hayes. Wait.”
My fingers fumble with his belt and the button and zipper of his jeans. He groans when I get a hand around his dick, even though it’s through the searing fabric of his boxers.
His cock is huge. It’s a stick worth talking about. Katerina’s words come back to me. If anyone before me had gotten their hands on Hayes’ dick before, there would be gossip.