Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 120513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 603(@200wpm)___ 482(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 603(@200wpm)___ 482(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
And a smile, when directed at her, could dampen her panties along with make her heart beat a little faster. Especially if it was accompanied with an expression that clearly said he was having very dirty thoughts.
She’d never been so sexually in tune with herself until the moment she met him. In the beginning, she didn’t understand it and her body’s response had been annoying. Her surprising reaction to him affected every part of her. From the top of her head all the way to her toes.
At first, she was uncomfortable with the way he made her feel. Tonight, she embraced it and understood it a little better. She also looked forward to their remaining hours together to learn why she never experienced this with anyone else.
Only with him.
At the back of her mind, she worried that no one else would ever make her feel this way again. It would only be him.
As strange and as unexpected as it was.
Even so, he couldn’t be the only one. Impossible. He just happened to be the first to build the fire, to stoke the flames from the cold ash that filled the gaping hole inside her.
Dark, cold, empty.
A future that looked dim no matter how much she wanted to change it, how hard she tried to do the same.
But not only did Dodge heat her in new ways, he also gave her a sliver a hope. Deep down that bothered her, because it made no sense.
When she’d walked into Crazy Pete’s on Tuesday night, she had been drowning in despair, feeling hopeless that nothing would ever get better, that things would never change. The second he agreed to let them play, a spark of hope ignited.
But that all could be nothing more than landing a gig, right?
Or was it something else?
Had it been more about the man than the money?
If it was, did it even matter? She wasn’t looking for a savior, whether he was one or not.
Anyway, they weren’t sticking around. They needed to hit the road and search for some gigs in warmer states. She had no time to explore these unfamiliar feelings.
She had no inclination to, either. It could only mean trouble. She did not need to add this man to her pile of life’s obstacles.
She never had anything handed to her in life. She’d torn every damn nail along the way as she scrambled to climb. Not even to the top, she’d simply be happy to reach a safe and secure level. One she could use for a break before continuing on her attempt to rise. Somehow, she always tumbled back down to the base of that never-ending mountain. Where once again she’d have to dust herself back off and try again.
She was working on it the best way she could by using the only skills she had. Her voice, her ear for music and her natural ability to put her own twist on familiar songs so they sounded new.
She was doing it all for herself. For Rex, Nico and Eddie, too.
But none of them were in this room tonight. It was only her and Dodge.
And right now, she didn’t think he was appreciating the way she lazily rode him.
He wasn’t bothering to hide his struggle to not take over. In fact, she was prepared for him to twist his body again, taking her with him so he was back on top and in control.
For now, she wanted to keep things the way they were.
Instead of increasing her pace, Syn decided to ramp things up between them in a different way. Since he didn’t seem to mind the scratches on his neck, she raked her short nails down his chest and over both of his nipples, not bothering to be gentle at all. The skin along her path rose and became red as she went, turning his torso into a piece of abstract art. Or a map full of roads with dead ends.
His stomach hollowed slightly when she dragged her nails down it, then followed the line of black hair that connected his navel to his cock. Once she reached the spot where they were connected, she tentatively touched him there before following the same path back up to his chest.
She planted both palms over his nipples, leaned over, giving him her weight, and whispered one word into his ear. “Tighter.”
She made it an order, not a request, and she wondered how he would react to being told what to do by someone half his weight and size.
Inside her, his cock flexed first, then his fingers clamped tighter around the delicate column of her throat. She had to trust him enough to know just how much pressure to use.
No surprise that he knew the perfect amount.
Not enough to cut off her breathing, but enough to feel the restraint and the control he held within his fingers. How vulnerable she made herself by encouraging him to grip a place where, if he squeezed hard enough, he could easily end her life. Or at least change it in a debilitating way.