Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 154890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
“Amelia, Jesus Christ. I’ve been desperate to kiss you since the day you turned up in my office. I should’ve known then. I should’ve sent you away then.”
“I wouldn’t have let you.” I’m surprised I can manage words because I’m pretty sure my feet have lifted from the ground as part of my ascension to heaven as light and heat and ecstasy wash through me. “Let me touch you,” I whisper tremulously. The tenor of the moment seems to change instantly. His hands loosen from my wrists and slide around to my ass as he pulls me flush against him. His mouth is on my jaw, my neck as I press up onto my toes, rubbing myself my soft to his hard. “Please, I want to feel you.” I slide my hands around him, spreading my fingers wide on the taut cheeks of his behind as though to maximize the contact, to make sense of this moment of fantasy.
“I want to fuck you,” he rasps in my ear. I make that noise of approval because I want that, too. I imagine it as he flexes against me, hot and thick. See his strong shoulders working over me in my mind’s eye. “But not here.”
“I wouldn’t mind.” In the dark, our chests heave, our harsh breath mingling when he huffs a quiet laugh.
“You’re such a pretty little thorn in my side.” His broad palm skims my waist and my ribs before the pad of his thumb skates across my nipple. It aches and stiffens under his touch. “I’ve no idea what to do with you.”
“That, I think, would be a first for you.” My body jerks beneath the rasp of his nail, and he swallows my moan before pulling back as though my words have just sunk in. “Because I remember more than you think and saw more than you probably realize. Like how the pool house was a favorite haunt of yours.”
“Amelia, were you a dirty little voyeur?” His reply is more approval than reprimand. Heck, it sounds more like supreme satisfaction “Did you enjoy watching me kiss other girls?”
In the dark space, I push up onto my tiptoes and bring my mouth to his ear. “The summer I turned sixteen, I began to pretend it was me.”
“Fuck,” he groans, “that shouldn’t be hot.” More kisses, harsher, deeper than the last. He tastes of fresh coffee and cool mint, and he feels like every temptation a cunning devil might offer. But this is not the devil. This is Whit. And I now know those girls in the pool house will remember those hours of his attention forever by the strength of his kisses alone.
“We shouldn’t be doing this.” He breaks away, pressing his teeth to my shoulder as though to restrain himself. But I’m not done. I won’t let this moment slip away.
“At school, the kids would talk about porn, but I didn’t need any of that. I’d just close my eyes and think of you as I slipped my hand between my legs.”
He gives a quiet groan, the kind that makes me wish I could bottle the sound. Maybe I should whip out my phone and ask him to repeat himself. Thankfully, he can’t see that piece of ridiculousness playing across my face.
“Are you trying to make me embarrass myself?”
“Whit.” His name sounds like a chastisement, though my insides pulse at the strange compliment. “I know you better than that.”
“Do you, now?”
“These days, I have more to work with. I can slip my hand into my underwear and think of how easily you made me come during our interview.”
“A fucking interview.” His fingers tighten on my thigh. Lifting it, he widens me and cool air hits damp fabric. “Fuck, I wish I could see. You’re so fucking wet.” It’s not an accusation, more an expression of praise as his thumb passes over the fabric, making my insides ache. A brush, a touch, a scrape of his nail over my most sensitive place as he begins to play with me, play with my responses. I whimper and twist, so ready for this. I know one firm touch is all I need.
“Please.” I cant my hips to increase the contact, wondering if he can feel my pulse through fabric and flesh, if he can feel my needy pull, when he slips his fingers under the elastic. I moan, my body jolting because I almost came from the slightest of contacts.
The outer door slams shut, and his fingers curl around me. “Fuck,” he rasps as his finger swipes through my wetness. “I need my mouth on you.”
His body begins to lower and cool air hits my pussy as I gasp a desperate, “Yes!”
And then Whit’s phone begins to ring.
12
WHIT
“You’re in a rotten mood.” Lavender halts in the action of licking yogurt from the back of her spoon to complain.