Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 157491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
“You were watching me,” I begin hesitantly.
He pauses and frowns before answering. “Evidently, not well enough.”
“I didn’t see you,” I add quickly when it seems like he’d blame himself. “I was watching, too. You know, in case I bumped into you and kissed you accidentally.”
He lifts his hand, but I’m not ready to let him get away. My fingers fasten over his strong wrist, holding him there.
“That was the point, wasn’t it? To not kiss you?”
His gaze dips to my mouth. “I don’t think that was the point at all.”
“You’re so confusing,” I admit in barely a whisper. His expression morphs into mild surprise. Maybe he’s not used to candor. “Were you watching because of our bet or because you wanted to kiss me?”
“You should let go.” His eyes say otherwise, and the thump of his pulse under my thumb echoes the one between my legs.
“I don’t want to.” I bite my bottom lip, suddenly conscious of how close we are and how I probably have terrible breath. But those worries dissolve like sugar on the tongue as he presses his finger there, forcing me to release it. “I should probably brush my teeth.” His eyes turn dark, and my breath halts as his head dips.
“You should make me leave,” he murmurs as his lips ghost over my ear.
“I don’t want you to.” I’ve never been particularly brave, especially where men are concerned. I rarely make the first move because it feels so alien. So the soft rustle of the sheet falling to my waist is a testament to how much I want him.
His gaze drops and breath leaves his chest in a small ah, and he stares at me with such longing, with a look of such sultry intent, that I don’t have a moment to doubt myself. This kind of longing I understand.
“You are so beautiful.” His eyes meet mine as the backs of his knuckles brush the tip of my breast, his wrist still encircled by my fingers. “But, darling, the time isn’t right.” His knuckles close over my nipple, and everything inside me contracts to that tight, aching point.
“It feels good to me.”
“It feels exquisite. But you should let go of my wrist,” he says, reading my intentions, anticipating where I’d been about to press his hand.
“I want you to touch me.” Even as I loosen my grasp on his wrist, my words are needy.
“I know, darling, but not now. Not after last night. The drugs he gave you—”
“Were they Niko-specific? Did you drug me with your jacket?” I trail my fingers between my breasts as I recall the silk lining tantalizing my nipples. “I wanted you before. I want you still.”
“We shouldn’t,” he maintains, studying me with those ice fire eyes.
I feel like a siren as I lower my head to the pillow and rest my hand above my head. “I know you want me, too.”
His hand slides to my hip. He palms it. It seems almost a prevention, a stand against my invitation. The confirmation of his intent is shocking as he says, “I’m not going to fuck you.”
A hard fricative yet such a soft denial. It shouldn’t be a turn-on, but it is.
“I’m not going to let you.” The taunting quirk of his brow aims to contradict. “I’m not that kind of girl.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” he replies, a smile tugging at his lips.
“But I do want to see what you can achieve in five minutes.”
His chuckle can only be construed as dark and dirty. “That sounded distinctly like a dare.”
“And you’re so easily manipulated?”
“When it comes to you, it would seem so.”
“Not true,” I whisper, “or I wouldn’t be forced to do this.” When I tighten my fist in his T-shirt, he allows me to pull him down, the bristles on his cheek a soft caress. “This isn’t gratitude.” My eyes flutter closed, reveling in the feel of his torso over me, daring him to resist as I scrape my teeth over his ear. “I am grateful, but—”
His body vibrates, his breath harsh and hot against my neck. “I’m no one’s hero, darling. I’m not a good man.”
“You saved me.”
“You don’t know me.”
Thank God for his hand sliding from my hip to span my ribs.
“Consider me duly warned.”
Relief rushes over me as his big hand palms my breast, and I hiss out a breath as his lips brush the juncture of my shoulder and neck. “Duly warned but still reckless.” He tastes and teases, sucks at my skin, and as his lips fasten over the hard point of my nipple, I almost levitate from the bed.
“God, yes!” The urgent pull of his lips sucks a sweet and urgent pulse from deep inside me. Blood fizzes in my veins, my head filling with impatient thoughts.
Need him. Now. Skin to skin.
I want the squeeze of his hand. The feel of his teeth.