Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 136296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
She bites her bottom lip through a grin and takes a step closer. Her warm palms settle on my chest and smooth over my shoulders. I rest my hand on her waist and dip my head down but wait for her to make the first move. She pushes up on her toes and brushes her lips over mine. Then she comes back again, this time lingering for a few seconds before she strokes along the seam with her tongue. I part my lips.
Her fingers slide into the hair at the nape of my neck. It’s longer than it should be, but I’ve been too lazy this summer to care. She makes a low, throaty sound, and her soft body presses against mine as our tongues meet and tangle.
Heat moves through my veins, and electric want zings down my spine, my erection swelling behind the fly of my jeans. I don’t know how long we stand here kissing, but when we finally come up for air, we’re both panting, and I’m really fucking hard.
“I absolutely want to show you my bedroom,” Clover says breathlessly.
“Okay.” One-word answers are about as good as it’s going to get since half the blood in my body has rerouted itself to my far-less-evolved head.
She laces her fingers with mine, and I follow her across the living room, taking in the tiles on the Scrabble board as I pass, and then we’re in her bedroom. It’s feminine and pretty, everything in soft shades of yellow and cream, with pops of vibrant green. On her nightstand are several books and magazines, including an old copy of Psychology Today.
I don’t have much time to process more of my surroundings because Clover leads me over to the bed and turns me so the backs of my calves hit the frame. She lifts her shirt over her head and drops it on the floor.
I bite my lip to suppress my grin when she looks down at her stomach and tries to cover the book-shaped outline.
“I would feel a whole lot sexier without this.”
“You’re sexy with or without a book tan line,” I assure her.
She rolls her eyes, but she’s fighting her own smile.
“Don’t worry, Clover. The last thing I’m worried about are your tan lines.” I sit down on the edge of the bed and part my legs, inviting her to stand between them.
She steps into the empty space and tugs my shirt over my head, discarding it on the floor before she runs her fingers through my hair again. “God, you are beautiful,” she whispers.
“So are you.” I drag my fingertips along her side and settle my hand on her hip.
She reaches behind her and unclasps her bra. I groan as the straps slide down her arms, revealing pert nipples and perky breasts.
My fingers flex on her hip. “I would really like to touch you.”
A slow smile spreads across her full lips. “I would like that too.”
I skim the swell of her right breast with gentle fingertips, circling her nipple, watching it pucker further, and then I lean in, taking the taut skin between my lips, sucking softly.
She climbs into my lap and when her fingers skim my belt buckle, I pause. “Just to be clear, I don’t have any expectations here, so if at any point you need to call a timeout, tell me and we can dial it back, okay?”
“Okay.” She nods.
When she goes for the button on my pants, I move back on the bed and flip us over. “Can I focus on making you feel good for a while?”
“You’re already making me feel good.”
“I’m aiming for orgasmically good.” I kiss my way between the valley of her breasts and down her stomach. “You okay with me taking these off?” I tug at the belt loop on her jeans.
“Yes. Absolutely.”
I fold back on my knees and pop the button, then drag the zipper down. “Like unwrapping an early birthday present.”
She laughs, and it’s a little breathless. “How old are you? Wait. Don’t tell me. Mid-twenties? Or maybe early? But definitely over twenty. You must be. That’s the only way you could have the body you do. Years of training.”
“Do you want me to answer that or not?” I kiss below her navel and drag her pants down her legs, tossing them over the edge of the bed.
“Yes. No. Yes.” She shimmies out of her panties, and they join the rest of the clothes on the floor. “You don’t have to be specific. But you’re in your twenties right?”
“Yeah, I’m in my twenties.” I place another kiss below her navel and stretch out between her thighs.
“Okay, that’s good.” Her toes curl against my side. “Are you being honest?”
“I wouldn’t lie. It doesn’t do either of us any good if we’re feeling guilty.” I turn my head to the right, kissing the inside of her thigh, sucking lightly on the skin.