Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 135831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
I roll my eyes. “Why do you have to ruin this by talk—”
Then I’m gasping, shuddering when he cuts me off, his lips meeting mine at last. It’s the barest of kisses. He hardly touches me. Just dusts those full lips over mine.
But it’s enough for my knees to weaken. I curl my fingers around the collar of his shirt. My other hand seeks hold of him too, so I set my palm on his strong chest, drawing a sharp breath as I touch his firm muscles for the first time.
He’s so solid. So sturdy. And I need this strength so much.
Max holds my face in the most tender way as he gives me the softest kiss. His beard whisks across my skin. I can taste the hint of his raspberry-flavored lip balm.
I feel like I’m floating.
Like I’m melting too. I’m a liquid woman as Max Lambert delivers on his promise—he should devastate you with a kiss like he can’t fucking breathe if he doesn’t kiss you.
Max does just that. He devastates me with a kiss I never saw coming.
Because I imagined he’d kiss rough and hard. A little pushy. A lot of tongue. This kiss though? It’s soft and slow and mesmerizing.
It’s the opposite of my expectations yet it’s exceeding all of them.
He’s letting me feel every second of this moment. He’s getting to know my mouth. It’s intoxicating as he takes his time, deepening the kiss. I feel like I’m falling into this kiss, like he’s seducing me with a brush of his lips, a gentle stroke of his tongue, a confident hand holding my face.
It’s magic, wonderful and terrifying all at once, because one kiss and I’m addicted. I don’t want him to stop. I want him to take me apart.
I grip his collar more tightly, jerk him closer, and then I feel him.
All of him.
He presses his big frame against me, and the outline of his erection is like a whole new world—hard, insistent, hungry. His kisses build in intensity even as he lets go of my face and he explores my body. He slides one hand down to the neckline of my shirt, then over the soft fabric toward my belly, making me tremble. When he curls the other hand around my hip, the sound I let out is dangerously loud.
A warning bell.
I break the kiss, tip my forehead to the door. An invitation. We don’t need words. The second I open the entryway door, he’s saying yes by following me. I walk up the steps to the second floor, him behind me every step of the way, our desire pulsing in the air of my building.
I reach my place, unlock it, then drop my bag and phone on the table in a rush. I switch on one light in the living room, but I dim it. I don’t plan on taking off my shirt, but it’s easier if I don’t have to explain anything tonight. Sometimes, I don’t want to explain anything. It’ll be easier if this is mostly dark in case he accidentally sees my scars, or the ones on my left hip.
“I didn’t think you’d kiss like that,” I admit.
He shuts the door and moves me against the wall right next to it, staring down at me with those cool eyes. “You’ve thought about kissing me?”
An ungodly amount of times. No point pretending anything else now. “I have.”
“How did I kiss you? When you got off to me?”
A laugh bursts from me. “I didn’t say I got off to you.”
He shoots me a closed-mouth smile. “You didn’t have to say it.”
I roll my eyes. “Why do you even talk?”
He smiles wider as he cages me against the wall, then kisses a path up my neck, traveling to my ear. “Want to know why I kiss you like this?”
My breath comes surprisingly fast. “Yes,” I say, desperate. I’m dying for his answer.
“Because you need to be savored, Everly. Because I would never rush things with you. Because you are not a quickie.”
His words thrum through my whole body, making me tingle everywhere as I meet his gaze. “What am I?”
He pulls back and locks his gaze with mine, his eyes filled with what looks like raw honesty. “You’re a bad idea, and I still fucking want you so much.”
Reality slams into me. We should stop. We really should. But Max is leaning against the wall, resting on his forearm, looking down at me like I’m impossible to walk away from.
Say yes.
“This can’t happen again,” I say as much for him as for me.
“I know.”
“This is one time only.”
“It sure is.”
I’m done talking so I reach for his waist and jerk him against me. I take the lead, and I’m not patient like he is. I’m hungry. No—starving is more like it. I kiss him like a greedy girl. I grow hotter with each press of our lips, each graze of his hands. A pulse beats everywhere in me, most insistently between my thighs.