Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
Nerves try to stop me from doing this, pushing down any silly sense of bravery clinging to me. It’s easy to forget when our lips meet, and he surges against me. He crushes me with his kiss, growling as his hand busies at my pants. He’s tugging at my button. I move my hand to him, meaning to make him stop. There’s only so far we can go with this. What if Mom comes home early? It’s more than that. There’s a lot he doesn’t know about me.
When my hand reaches his, I don’t push him away as planned. Instead, I work at the clasp. Together, we get it loose, and I know this is the point I should tell him. This is the point I should be brave and warn him before he goes any further. I can’t do, can’t be, everything he wants. Whatever this is, it’s clear he wants to have sex, but I can’t summon the words—not when our tongues caress each other, not when his hand slips down my panties, nothing between us but skin and skin.
He shudders, breaking off the kiss, leaning up and staring at me, complete captivation in his expression. I never dreamed any man would look at me like that. Nothing else matters to him right now. Just this moment. Just me.
“When you moan like that, you look so. Damn. Beautiful.”
I’m about to ask how exactly, but then his fingers stroke over my bare clit, and I moan. He pushes down against me and starts moving his hand from side to side. All the while, the curtains are open. We’re out of view, and it’s nighttime. Our street is quiet. That doesn’t mean we’re being clever about this. If we wanted to keep this a secret, we wouldn’t be doing anything here, but I didn’t know there was a this—a chance at steaminess between us—before he kissed me.
He rubs me faster, quicker, my clit getting warm and then hot and then boiling, and everything else falls away. The rest of reality slips into insignificance as my hips take on a life of their own.
I don’t plan on shifting against him, grabbing his shoulders for purchase, or feeling my nails bend against his irrepressible muscles. I didn’t plan on twerking toward the end, the pleasure rising, turning to ecstasy as my hole aches and my clit pulses. That’s right, twerking like my lower half has decided to audition for a music video. His hand is too fierce. I can’t help it. I’m giving him misleading ideas about what sort of lover I’ll be, but I can’t stop.
“You’re so close,” he growls. “I can see it. You’ve never looked sexier.”
I didn’t even know he thought I was sexy, let alone sexier, but I’ll take it.
Searing, blistering, beautiful heat washes over my lower half. My pussy aches, and my clit throbs, and suddenly, in one bright moment, I know this will work out. I know nothing could ever come between us. As I hover in the release, as the orgasm sends wave upon wave of toe-curling sensation boiling through me, I can’t imagine anything tearing us apart.
The orgasm passes, and I’m left panting, my confident thoughts drifting away. I almost call out to them, “Come back, better version of me. Come back, girl with all the answers.”
Jax stands, staring down at me, his whole body trembling. There’s a bomb in him ready to go off, the seconds ticking down. It’s like he’s trying to fight it. When it detonates, his resolve crumbles, and he reaches for his waistband. For his belt.
“What are you doing?” I snap, sitting up, my hands worrying at my buttons as I think about Mom walking in here.
Or, and this is somehow worse, Mom not walking in, giving Jax and me the free time to follow the path he wants to take, but what happens when he learns the truth?
His hands pause. His mouth opens.
“I…” His eyes are clear, as though he’s just emerged from sleep like he only now realizes what he’s doing. “I thought—”
He cuts himself off, his features shifting, becoming darker.
“I must’ve made a mistake.”
No, it’s not that…
I will myself to soften, but I can’t tell him the truth, not in person. Everything’s easier over the phone with time to think about what I’m going to type or what I’m not going to type.
“Yes,” I say, jumping to my feet and turning away so I don’t have to look at him. “I guess you did.”
He marches for the door. I hear his heavy footsteps, but I don’t turn to look at him.
“Call me if he comes back, and remember to set your alarm after I leave.”
There’s a love-touched tugging in my chest. He’s still thinking about my safety, even after what just happened—my hot-then-cold routine.
Once he’s gone, I set the alarm and look out the front window. He’s sitting in his car, staring down into his lap, maybe at his phone. Quickly, I grab my phone from my pocket. I’m right. The dots are appearing and vanishing again. The interior light of his car lets me see his expression, the tightness of his jaw, and the glinting in his eyes.