Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 134665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
“That’s your first mistake.” He gives me a cruel smirk that makes him look like the beautiful bastard he is.
My hands grip his wrist that holds me in place. “The … second?” He’s almost cutting my air off.
“Playing me.” His free hand comes up and palms my breast over my shirt.
I moan, and my eyes fall closed. He pushes his hips into mine, and he’s hard. I’m wet. Fuck, why does he do this to me? Why, out of all the boys in the world, does Deke Biggs manage to make me want to spread my legs and slap him at the same time?
“Feel how hard I am for you, princess?” he asks, running his lips along my jawline.
Pulling all the self-control I can manage, I rasp. “You think I’ll give in that easily?”
He gives a rough laugh before taking my earlobe between his lips while his hand tightens on my neck, taking away my air before he whispers, “I don’t need permission to take what I already own.”
And his cockiness brings me out of my drunken and lust fog. I’m not in the mood to play his stupid games tonight. I’m tried, drunk, and need a shower. I push him off me. He takes a step back with a smug smile on his face.
I rub my sore neck and swallow roughly. “I can’t tell you how much I hate your unannounced visits, but it’s time for you to go.” I walk over to my adjoining bathroom, trying to stay upright, and flip on the light.
I go to slam the door shut, but his black boot stops it, and it flies open. “Deke … What …?”
He reaches out, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling my back to his front. He stares at me in my bathroom mirror. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, bringing his right hand up and wrapping it around my neck again, forcing my chin up.
“I need a shower,” I say, trying to fight him off, but he’s not allowing it this time. He’s too strong.
He leans down, whispering in my ear, “It’s cute that you think I give a fuck what you need.”
“I’m dirty,” I protest. I smell of weed and alcohol. I don’t smoke the shit and neither does Seth, but his friend was. Pretty sure I have a contact high at the moment.
He leans down, inhaling my ponytail. “Baby, I’m about to make you filthy.”
My breath hitches when he releases my stomach and lowers his hand to the button of my jeans. “Deke?” What is he doing? We’re done. The back and forth game is over.
“Yeah, princess?” His ocean blue eyes stay on mine. The sound of my zipper being lowered is barely heard over my heavy breathing. A smirk graces his handsome face when his hand slides into my jeans. “All you gotta do is tell me to stop.”
I don’t.
My heart pounds, my body physically shakes, and my mind screams fucking stop! But I can’t make my lips move. My hands lie heavy at my sides completely useless against this man.
He lowers his lips to my ear, and whispers, “Tell me to stop, Becky!”
And just like before, that knocks me out of this trance. I shove him off, and he doesn’t even resist. Spinning around, I glare up at him, and it makes me even more pissed to look at his smug smile. “I hate you, Deke!” I seethe.
He throws his head back and laughs as if I just told him a joke. It makes his entire body shake, and I let out a scream of frustration. I think I’m losing my mind.
“Say it like you mean it, princess.” He looks me up and down while licking his perfect lips.
I ignore the way it makes my heart race. I shove him. “I FUCKING HATE …”
He grips my hands, pins them behind my back, and slams his lips to mine. “I fucking hate you too.” He growls.
My hands fight him, and he lets them go, but instead of shoving him away this time, they wrap around his neck. His large hands grip my ass, and he picks my feet up off the floor. My legs wrap around his hips, and he walks me back to the bedroom. Then he’s tossing me onto the bed. His blue eyes stay trained on mine as he stands by the edge. He removes my shoes, socks, and then yanks my jeans down my legs. I find myself kicking them a little to help the guy out. My heart pounds like a drum in my chest—loud and viciously. I’m trying to catch my breath, but I’m afraid I may pass out before he undresses me. Without taking his heated eyes from mine, he grips the white lace fabric of my thong, and in a much slower pace, he slides them down my shaking legs.