Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Fine, I more than hoped. I sent up a prayer to whatever God had made a man as utterly indescribable as Weston. If I only got to have this man once, then I wanted him as completely lost for me as I was for him.
Now I just had to hope that the silk robe Ava had given me for Christmas two years ago was enough to cut through whatever awkwardness there might be after I’d pretty much told him this morning that tonight was the night.
His footsteps sounded outside the door, and I swallowed the knot of anticipation in my throat.
I’d had all day to think about the things I wanted to do to him—the things I wanted him to do to me. I felt like a thoroughbred racehorse, just waiting to be let out of the stall, warmed up and ready to be—
Okay, that was enough horse analogies.
The door handle turned and a stab of anxiety tightened my stomach. Had I forgotten anything? I’d shaved my legs. Washed my hair. I’d even taken off an hour early so I could paint my toenails.
What if he had changed his mind? What if he took one look at me and laughed about me trying too hard. Shit. Was I trying too hard?
The door opened and Weston walked in, a blustery wave of snow following before he shut the door. Guess the storm had started. He turned, taking off his hat and unzipping his coat while juggling a bottle of wine.
He froze the second he saw me.
His hat fluttered to the tile entry.
Our eyes met across the room and his jaw dropped, then snapped shut and clenched as his gaze raked over me from the top of my head to the tips of my painted toes. The heat there was unmistakable, making my thighs clench.
“I thought you might want to order dinner.” His coat hit the floor as he walked toward me.
I shook my head.
“Wine?” He lifted the bottle.
“Nope.”
He set it on the dining room table and kept coming. “Anything you do want?”
“Just you.” I reached for the belt holding my robe together, but he was already against me, his hands sweeping down my back to grab my ass as he kissed me.
His tongue stroked into my mouth, and I whimpered. He tasted like mint and Weston. My arms wound around his neck, and he lifted me to the counter, setting me at the edge. My thighs parted. He moved between them, the rough denim abrading the sensitive skin of my inner thighs with delicious friction.
“I like you like this.” His hands stroked up my thighs, skimming under the satin robe.
“All prepped and waiting for you?” I teased.
“All mine.” His hands reached my hips and he yanked me forward, crushing his mouth to mine. It wasn’t sweet or slow. It was all tongues and teeth and need left too long unsatisfied. He’d brought me to climax yesterday, but that wasn’t enough. I wanted him.
I needed to know what it felt like to have him inside me, how he moved, how he sounded when he came. I needed it all.
His hand tangled in my hair, and he moved my head, angling it for a deeper kiss. I pressed flush against him, locking my ankles at the small of his back and gave just as much as he was giving. Every nerve ending in my body was alive, reveling in the glide of his tongue with mine, the press of his fingers into the flesh of my hip, the slight sting at my scalp when he tugged gently.
“Off,” I demanded, grabbing the bottom of his Henley.
He reached behind his head and tugged it over and off, dropping it to the side.
“Weston.” It was all I could say as my fingers traced the lines of his pecs and down the carved ridges of his abs. For weeks, I’d watched him. For weeks, I’d wanted him, stared at him, craved the feel of his skin beneath my fingertips. He was velvet-soft skin over miles of hard muscle, and my mouth watered to taste every inch.
“Keep looking at me like that, and we won’t make it upstairs.” His voice sounded like it had been scraped over sandpaper.
“I’m okay with that.” I didn’t care where, only when, and when was now.
“I’m not.” He ducked his head and kissed my neck, toying with my skin like it was the start button to my sex drive. He didn’t know I’d been primed all day, counting down the minutes, waiting for him. “If we’re only doing this once, then it’s going to be in a bed, Calliope. Where I can stretch you out and take you in every way I’ve imagined.”
“You haven’t imagined the kitchen counter?” My fingers toyed with the button of his jeans. “Because I have. Every time you’re in here cooking, I think about what it would feel like to have you just like this.”