Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
“Oh, I…” Her Italian accent is thick, and her Italian features are striking. “It’s nice to meet you. I was just saying…I was asking—”
“Apparently there’s a room in the back where couples sometimes…” Naz waggles his brows. “You know.”
“Oh.” I clap my hands under my chin. “I wanna see.”
There’s a dense silence following my words. Giovanna’s expression goes from awkward to interested in half a second flat.
“Si.” She nods enthusiastically and grabs my hand, heading for a corridor at the rear of the club.
“Kira.” Naz grabs my other hand, pulling us all to a halt. “We don’t need to—”
“Come on,” I coax.
Our eyes hold for a few seconds before he concedes and inclines his head for Giovanna to lead us. We weave our way down the long passageway lined with doors. Giovanna holds one of my hands, and Naz holds the other. When we reach the last door, he tugs me to his side and eyes Giovanna, his expression impassive.
The door swings open to reveal a room with a plush couch against the wall and the same marble floor that runs the length of the hallway.
“See?” Giovanna sings, eyeing us both, her smile growing wider when she closes and locks the door. “Private.”
She takes a step toward Naz and presses her hand to his chest, and I clasp her wrist, carefully lifting her hand away.
“That’s as far as you go,” I say. “I’ll take it from here.”
Giovanna freezes, confusion on her pretty face and in her luminous, dark eyes. She pouts and looks between the two of us like we stole her toys before she leaves. In the quiet that follows, I step up to Naz, subtly inching him back until we reach the couch. I push his shoulder, and he sits, looking up at me with ravenous eyes. I bend to place my knees on either side of his spread thighs, straddling him, my dress fanning out over his lap in a flurry of silk.
He strokes the exposed skin of my back. “I don’t want anyone but you.”
“And I don’t want anyone but you.” I dip my head, taking his mouth in a kiss so carnal, it burns my lips and sets fire to my blood. With tomorrow taunting me, closing in on our Utopia, I clutch his strong arms, clasp his face between trembling hands, rock my hips over his erection. The friction through the thin lace of my thong arrows desire in me and steals the breath from my lungs and every thought but him from my mind. His hand slips into the side cut-out of my dress to palm my breast beneath the silk, pinching my nipple.
“You want to choke me, I’m down,” I breathe in his ear. “You want to fuck me in the ass, you can. You want Giovanna to come back and eat me out while you watch, you can have that, too. I love making you feel good. Just tell me what you want.”
I seal the offer with a kiss that gives him everything I promised and more. It lifts every barrier between us. Even still clothed, my words and the greedy, compulsive need winding between us strip us naked. I’m putty in his hands, and he’s putty in mine, and with every touch, we mold each other into exactly what the other needs, while never losing ourselves.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he whispers into our kiss, his voice raw, his hands desperate, clenching on my thighs, urging the flowing skirt higher to expose my thong.
“I just did.” I laugh against his lips.
“I’m serious, Kira.” He leans his head away when I move to kiss him again. “We fly back tomorrow.”
“I know.” I take the collar of his shirt between my fingers and raise my eyes no higher than his Adam’s apple. “You’ll go back to San Diego?”
“In the off-season, I live in LA. Not far from Kenan and Lotus.” He cups my face and presses his forehead to mine. “Come stay with me.”
A startled gasp slips past my lips. “It’s only been two weeks.”
“I’m not saying move in, but just keep doing what we’ve been doing.” He trails kisses down my throat and peels the dress back, kneading my breast. “Eating together, sleeping together, learning each other.”
I can barely focus on his words with his hand at my breast and his eyes so intent on my face. Suspecting that’s what he’s counting on, I force myself to pull back until his hand drops away.
“I know this whole trip put the cart before the horse,” I say, pulling my dress and my sanity back into place. “But I’d rather take our time.”
“You want to stop sleeping together?” he asks, his expression unchanging. “We can do that.”
“Oh, hell no.” I reach between us to palm him through his pants. “Give this up when I just learned to ride it?”