Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
He nods solemnly. “Oh yeah. Like date two is more of a lingering kiss.” He presses his lips to mine, firmer this time, then pulls my bottom lip between his. “And by the end of date three, the anticipation is pretty much killing me, knowing that kiss is coming, but not wanting the date to end.” This time he slants his mouth over mine and strokes inside on a low groan. I welcome the velvet caress of his tongue, that little steel ball firm against all the soft.
I sink into the kiss, warming from the inside as his fingers slide into my hair, thumb gliding back and forth along the edge of my jaw. When he finally pulls back, we’re both breathing heavily.
“I like date three kisses.”
“Same.” His thumb sweeps across my bottom lip. “But date four kisses are even better.” He shifts and I lie back on the pillow. The air mattress dips when his elbow sinks in and tips me back in his direction. We both laugh and then I sigh when his lips sweep along my neck and he whispers, “So sexy,” in my ear before skimming my cheek.
The next kiss is explosive. Heat funnels through my veins and I grip his shoulders, hitching my leg over his hip. I want the weight of him over me. I want his hands and his mouth on my skin. We grope and kiss, making out in a way I haven’t done since I was a teenager and everything was new.
“What are date number five kisses like? I think I’m ready for some of those.” I run my hands down his back, grabbing his ass and pushing down as I roll my hips.
Lawson brushes my nipple through my sleep tank. “Date five kisses get a little friskier.”
“I’m on board with friskier.”
“We’re so on the same page right now, aren’t we? Kindred kissing souls is what we are.” I help Lawson pull my tank over my head. He cups one breast in his hand, thumb sweeping over my nipple as his tongue glides down my neck. When his lips close over my nipple, I arch and gasp at the feel of that hot steel ball circling my sensitive skin.
I want to know how that feels between my thighs.
“That’s probably a date number ten kind of thing. You wanna fast forward?”
I freeze and I’m sure my eyes are ridiculously wide. I can feel my face heating up. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
Lawson grins and licks at my nipple. “Up to you whether you want to stay at kiss five level or skip over a few to get to the good stuff.”
“If that’s date number ten, what happens between six and nine?”
His grin widens.
I laugh and roll my eyes. “Oh my God, sixty-nine. I walked right into that, didn’t I?”
“You totally did.” His hand glides down my stomach and his fingers flirt at the waist of my shorts, the pinkie slipping under the waistband. He pauses, though, his expression earnest. “Up a level or stay where we are?”
I reach up to tuck a loose tendril of hair behind his ear. I like the way he asks before he moves forward, never assuming. “I like you.”
He kisses the end of my nose. “I like you, too. That’s why we’re dating now.”
I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and say, “Up a level,” then pull his mouth back to mine.
Fifteen minutes later, my shorts are lying on the tent floor and I find out just how awesome date ten activities are. That little steel ball circles my sensitive skin, his hot, wet tongue so soft in comparison. I roll my hips and grip his hair, riding the wave of orgasm bliss.
Lawson settles between my hips and I feel the thick shaft against me through his shorts. “What date are we at now?”
“Whatever one you want.” He kisses up the side of my neck.
“How about the one where I get to feel you inside me?”
He stills and pushes up on his forearms, eyes searching my face like maybe he’s trying to see inside me. “We have all weekend if you’d rather press pause.”
“Do you want to press pause?” Based on the way he keeps rolling his hips, I’m pretty sure I already know the answer.
His eyes fall closed for a second. “No, I don’t.”
“Me either.”
“Condoms aren’t in the tent. They’re in my wallet.” He rolls off the air mattress and lands on the floor with an oomph. “Be right back.”
He’s gone less than thirty seconds before he stumbles back into the tent. I help him out of his shorts and watch in fascination as he stretches the latex over the piercing and rolls it down his length. I can’t imagine how much it had to hurt to get that. I’m guessing the pros must outweigh the cons, though.