Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 153268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 766(@200wpm)___ 613(@250wpm)___ 511(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 766(@200wpm)___ 613(@250wpm)___ 511(@300wpm)
I was also a people pleaser, and I really wanted to please Row. So I made complimentary moaning sounds I’d learned from the Pornhub University of Fake Orgasms. This included head lolling, enthusiastic panting, and girly gasps.
Row took this as an invitation to move to second base, coiling his calloused fingers around the front of my throat and flattening me against the hood of his car. The hood still exuded heat from the engine, and I wondered if I’d sport second-degree burns tomorrow morning. My butt cheeks were squeezed together to accommodate his lean waist between my thighs, my heartbeat thrashing against my eyelids like an angry woodpecker.
We were parked on a rocky cliff overlooking the glacial-tipped Maine mountains. The ocean stretched like a tight, black sheet across the horizon. The briny scent floated into my nostrils, and goose bumps coated my arms.
It felt so good and yet so wrong, I didn’t know whether to burst into giggles, tears, or flames.
Stop this right now, Cal. Dylan is going to strangle you.
Actually, my BFF was more the type to steal my clothes and go on a killing spree. Dylan Casablancas was creative, innovative, and delightfully hilarious. I loved her so much. She deserved better than this.
Row’s hand snuck under my beige turtleneck and my yellow plaid vest, cupping my left boob as his mouth trailed along my jaw, leaving wet, hot kisses in its wake, making my spine tingle. His lips were sinful, his tousled hair as soft as silk between my greedy fingers.
Dammit, I’m only human.
We were grinding against each other, and I was in awe of how different his body was from mine. Hard to my soft. Tall to my short. Tan to my pale. He was doing everything right. The way he swirled his tongue over my sensitive spots, drawing happy whimpers from me. The way his thumb rubbed the tip of my hard nipple, making it tingly and sensitive and desperate for more, felt like some kind of dark magic.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
What a terribly un-asshole-y thing to say. Then again, Row never directed his infinite wrath at me. Probably because I was like a sister to Dylan.
There was a bonfire happening in the moorlands below the cliff where we were parked. A farewell bash for us seniors before we all scattered away to our respective colleges. Row had dropped by to pick Dylan up—he was in town for a couple weeks, visiting from his fancy culinary school in Paris—but Dylan had wanted to stick around a little longer. Meanwhile, I’d wanted to go home, eat pickled eggs, and binge-watch Riverdale.
Yet we’d ended up on the notorious Make-out Mountain, where couples went to lose their virginity, and sometimes lacy thongs, without being interrupted.
Row and I were friendly. He was always protective of me. I’d asked him to drive up to the cliff so I could take one last look at the ocean before I moved to New York. I definitely hadn’t planned on attacking his mouth with mine like a rabid raccoon when we’d both stared at the yolky sun crawling up the sky.
Yet…it had happened. It had happened, and now I was in his arms, the cold recipient of his kisses and licks and roaming hands. I froze, yet again feeling guilty about Dylan. She’d forgive me, surely. It wasn’t like he was her boyfriend.
Row ripped his mouth from my skin, staring me down through a disapproving scowl. “Are you still alive?”
“Hmm-mm.”
“Should I stop?” His fingers immediately loosened around my waist and back, and I suddenly remembered what had made me want to have sex with him in the first place.
“No!” I wrenched him closer and pressed my lips to his, doubling down on that rabid-wildlife conduct. “You…you can’t stop.” But maybe he should? My mind and my body were definitely not in sync.
“Sure I can.” His mouth moved over mine again, his voice velvet and smoke. “Consent is a real thing. Google it.” I was blushing so furiously, it was a medical miracle my head didn’t explode. His mouth grinned against mine, teeth grazing my bottom lip. “Fuck. You’re so sweet. So innocent. I want to eat you out.”
“I want to eat you out too.” Wait, what? That didn’t sound right. Having social anxiety and literally zero filters when I was nervous sucked.
“Do you, now?” I could hear the smirk in his smartass tone.
Dammit, Cal. “Not, in, like, a cannibalistic way—”
“Show me, then. Use plenty of examples. I’m a slow learner.” He growled, deepening our kiss. Our teeth brushed together, and a wave of pleasure rolled along my spine. My skin was cold, but my insides were ablaze. I pushed my palm against his groin over his black jeans. I couldn’t believe I was touching him, really touching the guy who literally made women melt into a pool of hormones just by glancing at him.