Knocking Boots Read online Willow Winters, W. Winters

Categories Genre: Chick Lit, Contemporary, Erotic, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
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She may want marriage and babies, and I’m sure as fuck not ready for that... But I can get her addicted to something else.

More than an innocent kiss.

My hands grip her hips and I hear her ass smack against my car as I splay my hand across her back and pull her against me. My dick’s hard in an instant.

I don’t know what happened. One minute she’s all for it, kissing me back with just as much passion.

The next, she breaks the kiss too soon, the moment gone as she steps out of my grasp and leaving me pining after her. There's a chill between us.

“We’re just friends, right?” Grace’s voice is soft, full of feigned strength, the vulnerability shining through. “This is just fun?” Her eyes dart up to mine as she starts walking to her car, her heels clicking on the pavement as she tries to catch her breath and blow off what just happened. I quicken my pace to catch up to her and hold her in my arms, searching her face for the reason she just took off.

It takes me a moment to even register what she asked.

I know what she wants to hear. She wants me to say I want more. But the words won’t come out.

The last time I gave someone more, she ripped my heart out. All I can see in front of me is how much of a fool I was back then.

Grace wants more, but I can’t give it to her.

I pull away from her, forcing a smile on my lips and ignoring her question as I say, “I had a really good time tonight.” Fucking hell, what’s wrong with me?

Her eyes flash with something, and the shame of knowing she wants more but deliberately not giving it to her presses against my chest. She turns to leave without another word.

The dry lightning turns to rain as I watch Grace walk away. The droplets are light at first, warm. I don’t do a damn thing to stop them from coming down as I unlock my car. It soaks into the thin cotton of my shirt, making it stick to my skin as I climb in and close the door.

She wants to be more than friends.

She wants a commitment, but she’s already talking about kids.

I’m fucking crazy for wanting her. But I can’t help it. I’m not stopping until I’m deep inside of her making her scream my name. She’ll let it go then. It won’t matter if there’s a title on us or not. I’ll make her happy. I can do that.

Grace

Sitting in traffic, rubbing my temples, I let out an agitated sigh. Traffic is nearly at a standstill. I could get out of my car, go get a cup of coffee, and come back to find that traffic hasn’t moved at all.

It’s been a long day. A long week, actually. I laugh a little to myself because it’s only Wednesday.

My goodness. I really need to unwind.

This past weekend… Charlie. My grip on the steering wheel tightens as I let out a strangled breath. What was I thinking? I’m playing with fire. He wants a good time and that’s all I’ll be to him. How much clearer could he make it for me? It’s as clear as day.

But a good time is starting to look real attractive to me.

The image of Mac’s Tavern comes to my mind, unbidden. Charlie, behind the bar. He’s wiping down the counter. He looks up at me, and smiles when he recognizes me. And then he starts taking off his shirt…

A smile stretches slowly across my face and I actually giggle ridiculously. The fantasy is sweet and innocent. A lot sweeter than my day has been, at any rate. The fantasy is also unrealistic... just like my other thoughts regarding our relationship.

I chew on my lip. I wasn’t planning on going to Mac’s today, but… seeing Charlie would be nice. I feel good when I’m with him. There’s no label or commitment though, and that makes me feel like a damn fool. After our date though, I couldn't care less about how it looks. I just want to be happy.

While I’m stuck in traffic, I manage to change out of my office attire, a gray pencil skirt and a white silk blouse. I pull a pale blue dress, strappy and knee-length, out of the back seat.

I try not to make eye contact with the people in nearby cars as I sneakily slip out of one outfit and into another. They’re getting a free show, but nothing more from me. It’s not like my bra shows any more than a bikini top anyway. My knee smacks against the steering wheel and I let out a sharp hiss. Ouch!

I have to shimmy the dress down over my ass and nearly hit the gas pedal, but I got it done.


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