Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Raya and Angeline are both model thin and too delicate to do more than wrap their arms around me and hold on for the ride.
But this woman could keep up with me, I’m sure of it, and the more I study her plush lips, the more I want to see them open in an “O” of pleasure while she comes on my cock.
“So…can I get up?” she asks after a beat, her voice a sexy rasp in the darkness. “I can find Mark’s phone, delete my embarrassment, and be out of your hair before you can say ‘I’m a big, scary man who likes to bully people half his size.’”
Her words send ice water rushing through my veins.
I don’t mind being called big or scary, but I’m no bully. I’m not my father and she’s not some innocent waif I pounced on while she was lost in the woods.
“You’re trespassing,” I say, my voice a low, ominous rumble. “In Maine, that gives me every right to defend myself. With force.” I curl my fingers tighter around her wrists, until I can feel her pulse racing beneath her skin. “That’s something you should have thought about before you walked into someone’s bedroom in the middle of the night without an invitation.”
“How do I know you’re not trespassing? This is Mark’s dad’s boat,” she says, proving she’s as brave as she is uninformed. “And you’re not Mark’s dad. Not unless you had a hair transplant and grew six inches.”
“No, I’m not Rodger,” I say, my jaw tight. “Rodger’s dead. Now, like it or not, everything that was his, is mine.”
Her jaw drops. “He’s dead? What? When?”
“Yesterday. Late afternoon.”
She blinks and shakes her head. “But no one said anything down on the docks. Not a word. And no offense, but that would be big news around here.”
“Because people hated Rodger?”
She has the decency to blush again, but she doesn’t hedge. “Yeah. We did. He was an asshole.”
My lips twist in a hard smile. “Guess you won’t be speaking at the funeral Sunday morning.”
“Guess not,” she says, her eyes narrowing on my face. “What about you? You don’t seem too broken up about the news.”
“Are you always this blunt?” I ask, returning her glare.
“Are you always this determined to stay on top of women who don’t want you on top of them?”
I smile again, a more lethal grin this time. I may not know how to make a relationship last more than a few months or have any idea what love feels like, but I know when a woman wants me. And this girl isn’t backing up her words with nearly enough struggle for me to believe she wants to be anywhere but where she is right now.
Dropping my lips closer to hers, I whisper, “Didn’t your parents teach you not to lie?”
“I’m not lying,” she says, even as her back arches slightly, causing her breasts to press against my chest. “I don’t even know your name.”
“Is that all it would take?” I smooth one hand down her forearm, over her elbow, to curl around her bicep, impressed again by the muscled flesh beneath my fingers. “A name?”
“I don’t want to sleep with you.”
“Are you sure about that?” I slide my palm lower, over the hollow beneath her arm until I’m cupping the side of her breast.
I tell myself that I don’t want to fuck a girl who’s already fucked a relative, but in a town the size of Sea Breeze, a girl like that might be hard to find. I’m stuck here for at least the next few weeks, until I can get my family’s affairs in order. I don’t want to spend those weeks alone. The past haunts me in this town, but the ghosts are quieter when there’s a warm, eager woman in my bed.
And this girl is eager, whether she wants to admit it or not. When I skim my thumb lightly over the swell of her breast, teasing closer to her nipple, a soft, hungry sound escapes from the back of her throat.
Her voice is breathy as she says, “I’ve never had a one-night stand.”
“Who said anything about one night? I want you in this bed, coming on my cock every night until I leave town in a few weeks.”
“You don’t even know me,” she says, her chest rising and falling faster. I drag the zipper down on her hoodie, revealing a tight, shiny black tank top that holds her full breasts close together, creating a creamy valley I’m dying to explore with my tongue.
“I know you’re beautiful, brave, and seem relatively intelligent despite having fucked Mark.” I curl my fingers into the fabric at the top of her shirt. “What else do I need to know?”
“I didn’t fuck Mark,” she says, her lips parting as I tug on the satin, guiding it beneath her breast. She gulps, her throat working as I mold my hand to her soft, hot skin. But she doesn’t look away. She holds my gaze as she says, “I’ve actually never fucked anyone.”