Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 139803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 699(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 699(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
“Out back,” she told me, not pulling her eyes from the television.
I dropped my bag by the door and moved outside to the back patio. I had no doubt she was dancing. I’d wanted her to take a break, but at the same time, I understood her need to keep going.
She was moving her body to the beat, and then she slowed down as the beat did before she stood back up, twisting her hips sexily.
Fucking hell, this woman made me want to drag her upstairs and bury myself deep inside of her again.
She looked up, her eyes widening in shock when her eyes landed on me. “Julian,” she said in surprise as she went over to her phone and hit the pause button. She turned to face me. Her chest was heaving up and down with exertion, and she had sweat running down her face.
Fuck it all to hell though; she was still the sexiest fucking woman I’d ever laid my eyes on.
And her ass in those fucking leggings?
Fuck me.
“Can you help me?” she asked, surprising me with her random question.
I shrugged as I stepped closer to her, shutting the back door to the house. “Possibly,” I said. “What’s up?”
“I need your help with this dance,” she told me as she grabbed her phone. The broken girl from yesterday was gone, replaced by the fierce, strong woman in front of me. Pride for her swelled in my chest.
She pulled up a video of her and Vincent dancing. It was a different one, not the one she had done the previous weekend when she was performing. “It’s not my normal style,” she admitted. “And Vincent is too platonic for this dance. I have a gut feeling that this dance will get me the contract I want, but with Vincent dancing it with me, I may lose that chance.”
“Sure,” I told her with her a shrug. “I’m not much of a dancer though,” I warned her as I grabbed her phone from her to continue watching the video.
She shrugged. “You’re my best option right now, Julian,” she confessed, her beautiful, green eyes looking up at me.
Those eyes would one day be my undoing; I just knew it.
Pain and fear flickered in their beautiful depths for a small, fleeting moment, but I picked up on it. I locked her phone and pocketed it, moving towards her. Her breath hitched in her throat as her lips slightly parted. “Julian, we shouldn’t,” she breathed as I laced my fingers in her loose bun.
“Why not?” I asked just as quietly.
She swallowed thickly. “This isn’t right, Julian, and you know it,” she told me. “I’m not looking for a relationship, nor am I looking for a commitment.” Rage stirred in my gut at her words. She was pushing me away. “Everyone knows sex with you more than once is practically you staking a claim since you only fuck the same woman once.” She was right, but Meghan was different. I fucking wanted her—needed her like I needed fucking air to breathe. “I’m trying to become a dancer, Julian, and you’ve got a contract with the Patriots just waiting on your signature.”
I narrowed my eyes at her as I gripped her ass, yanking her hard up against me. “So, that’s it?” I demanded in a growl. “We fuck each other once and go our separate ways, and you just fucking use me for your fucking dance?”
She swallowed thickly, but I had to give the woman credit. She kept her gorgeous, green eyes bravely locked on mine. “Yes,” she said.
I quickly released her, glaring at her. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I snarled. “So, what? That’s fucking it, then?!” I barked at her.
I was fucking furious. The one woman I actually wanted more of, felt like I might even have a chance of having a goddamn future with, didn’t want me. She didn’t want shit to do with me except to gain her a fucking dance contract.
Well, she could kiss my damn ass. I wasn’t fucking helping her.
Call me selfish, but I didn’t care.
“Figure your own fucking dance out,” I snarled at her as I stormed inside, slamming the backdoor shut behind me. I stood there for a moment with my fists clenched at my sides, rage roaring through every nerve of my body.
Nah, fuck that. She wasn’t getting rid of me that damn easily.
I was Julian Markos. If I wanted something, I took it—on and off the field.
And I wanted her.
I stormed back outside. Her wide, alarmed eyes snapped to me as I stormed over to her. She opened her mouth to say something, but I didn’t care. I fisted her bun in my hand and tilted her head back, covering her lips with mine. With my other hand, I gripped her perfect, round ass and yanked her body against mine.