Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
But not watching Pretty Woman had been the biggest of all the mistakes of his life.
He backed up then, until the backs of his knees hit the sofa, and he slumped onto it, holding his head in his hands, muttering, “Dammit, dammit, I’m screwing this up again.”
He let out a long sigh so heavy it seemed to crush his chest. He was supposed to tell the truth. But instead, they were battling with words again. Looking up, his voice holding all the feeling he could muster, he said, “Ava, what we had, it never died for me. And I don’t think it died for you either.”
She glared, what he’d said meaning nothing to her. “Don’t tell me what I felt then or what I feel now.”
He nodded, rising from the sofa, approaching slowly, no longer wanting to crowd her or push her. “I know I can’t tell you what you feel.”
Her lips were so soft, her scent so sweet. And he made what could be the next biggest mistake of his life, whispering, “I’m pretty sure that also means I can’t…” He took yet another step closer, then another, until their lips were only a hairbreadth apart.
Something glittered in her eyes. He hoped it was desire, prayed it was. They breathed the same breath, and her nostrils flared slightly, as if she were scenting him the way he scented her.
He waited for that little nod, a small but clear sign that she wanted what he wanted.
When he thought he saw it in the burn of her eyes, he kissed the breath out of her, kissed a low, sexy moan out of her, kissed her until her lips parted, until she was kissing him back with the same fervor he felt beating in his chest.
Kissing him with a passion he needed to go on forever.
* * *
The kiss was so passionate, so breathtaking, so overpowering. Ava melted into him, savoring his taste as his tongue mimicked making love to her. God, she’d dreamed of this, wanted it, needed it. Even if it was the worst thing she could ever do. But she was beyond caring.
Until Ransom stepped back.
Not much, just a couple of inches, but enough to sluice cold water down her spine—even as her heart cried out for him not to stop, cried out, Please don’t leave me again.
“Go ahead,” he said softly. “Deny the sparks we just felt.”
She’d never been a liar. And she couldn’t lie now. “Dammit.”
She shoved her hands through her hair, all the pins of her careful chignon flying. She was furious with herself, felt it pump through her veins, furious because she was actually done fighting. Because that kiss, quite possibly the most perfect kiss of all time, had drained every ounce of fight out of her. All she wanted now was to throw herself into his arms.
So she did.
Literally threw herself at him, arms around his neck, pulling his head down, taking his lips, opening hers, dragging him inside, and kissing him until she couldn’t think. Because this had nothing to do with thinking. He hauled her up against him, letting her feel every hard muscle, letting her feel how badly he wanted her. She was drowning in his taste, his scent, his heat.
Drowning…
With only one brain cell still firing, she pulled herself out of his arms. When he looked at her as if she’d crushed his world, she could only whisper one word. “Door.”
On trembling legs, she crossed her office to lock it. She didn’t care that Naomi might hear that soft snick.
Ransom stood right behind her, so close she could smell his pheromones without even turning.
In the next moment, she turned, grabbed him by the lapels, and pushed him up against the door. He dropped his hands to her bottom, pulling her against the hard ridge of him, and went for her neck like a vampire, kissing, licking, sucking, biting.
She didn’t let him restrain her for long, breaking free and stripping off his tie. She couldn’t wait a moment longer—yanking off his jacket, grabbing his shirt, tearing the buttons as she shoved it down his arms.
Before she lost all coherent thought, even as she was jerking open his belt and pulling down his zipper, she said, “Condom.”
“In my wallet. Back pocket.”
She pulled back a moment to look at him, her heart ramming her chest. “Do you always carry a condom in case you get lucky?”
He shook his head. “Only since yesterday, after the wedding.”
Blinking, she stared him down.
“Only because I was praying for the moment you finally let me in.” He reached for his wallet.
It was so sexy, so beguiling. That he’d actually rushed to a drugstore right after the wedding. Just for her.
Even as she wanted to strip off her clothes and take him, a voice in her head shouted, Don’t do this. You’ll regret it, while a warring voice answered, Shut up. Don’t tell me to stop now. Not when it’s so damn good.