Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 20818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 104(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 104(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
“Other than playing with my spoiled cat and enjoying impromptu pizza dinners with charming company?” I pretend to ponder this, deliberating exaggeratedly. “Well, I’ve got a soft spot for binge-watching terrible reality TV and true crime shows.”
“Ah, a connoisseur of culture,” he teases, taking another bite. “What’s your guilty pleasure reality show?”
“Oh, definitely ‘Baking Showdowns,’” I reveal with a theatrical flair. “It’s less about baking skills and more about the chaotic, frantic energy of burnt cookies and failed desserts. It reminds me of a typical day at work.” I roll my eyes dramatically.
He chuckles at this and leans over to wipe a spot off my cheek with his napkin. The intimacy of the act causes my heart to flutter in my chest.
While we devour the entire pizza, Walter lies beside us batting at his new toy with sustained laziness, clearly loving Tony’s presence as much as I am.
After we’ve cleared away dinner, we settle back onto the sofa, and Tony pulls me against his side. Walter curls up on his other side and starts purring loudly as we search for an appropriately scary movie to watch.
As the killer moves from victim to victim on the screen, Tony’s thumb rubs small circles on the sensitive skin on the back of my hand, creating tiny electric sparks with every caress. Cass’s earlier recommendations flash through my mind, and I decide my friend is right—it’s time for me to make a move on Mr. Tall, Dark, and Devilish.
I lay my head on his shoulder and glance up to meet his gaze. My heart thuds steadily as I watch flames of hunger flash through his dark eyes. His eyes widen when I reach up to wrap my hand around his jaw and pull his face down for my kiss.
His lips move over mine in a perfect mix of sweetness and urgency. It's the kind of kiss that sets off fireworks in my mind and makes the world around us dissolve. All that's left is the feel of him, close, demanding in the most delicious way.
His hands slip under my T-shirt, gliding across my skin, thumb tracing lines of fire down my spine. I practically melt, my body unconsciously arching toward him. And then his fingers wrap around my hips, guiding me to straddle his lap, pulling me even closer. "I need you," he whispers, and it's like a spark that sets my pulse racing quicker than ever.
My heart thunders in my ears as I manage to murmur, "Then have me." There's nothing else but this—the soft, insistent pressure of his lips, the gentle heat of his fingers. When he shifts, kissing a path down my collarbone, my breath catches. Every kiss sends a shiver of sensation through me, and I can't help but arch against him, desperate to feel every part of him.
"You realize," he murmurs between kisses against the base of my throat, "once I have you, I'll never let you go." His words are a promise wrapped in sinful intent, his hands slipping beneath my thighs as he stands, holding me effortlessly.
Legs wrapped around his waist, I cling to him, my senses a delightful blur. "I'm not scared," I manage to say, voice shaky with anticipation as I guide him toward the hallway. "My room is the last door on the left." I lean in, pressing a kiss to his strong jawline as he carries me there, making me feel like I'm the only thing that matters.
Before I realize it, we're in my bedroom. He somehow manages to navigate my natural state of organized chaos, shutting the door behind us with a quiet, decisive click that seems to echo in the charged air.
Tony places me gently on my feet, and I almost protest the loss of his touch until he reaches down, lifting my T-shirt over my head with a deliberate slowness that sends tingling anticipation down my spine.
Inspired—or perhaps emboldened—I slide my hand past the fabric of his crisp dress shirt, seeking his length, hard and ready. A breathless bravery surges through me as I unbutton his pants and slowly pull the zipper down.
"If you keep doing that," he grunts, his voice tight with restraint, "I'm going to lose my mind." The admission sends feminine power roaring through my veins, and as I wrap my hand around him, a gentle squeeze elicits a tremor that ripples through his frame.
He guides my hand with his, showing me the rhythm he likes, and I almost lose myself in the sensation before he pulls back, his eyes smoldering with intent. "Why are you stopping?" I ask, a whole lot breathless and a little impatient, longing to continue what we've started.
"Just slowing things down a little," he says with a wink. In an effortless motion, he lifts me again, and this time, lays me back on the bed, hovering above me with an intensity that makes my heart flutter.