Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Henry reaches a hand out to squeeze Jesse’s shoulder, causing him to flinch. The movement is almost imperceptible, but I catch it, and Henry does, too, if his dejected expression is anything to go by. Then they’re parting ways, Jesse going right, Henry going left.
By the time ten o’clock rolls around, I’m running on fumes. I’ve alternated between trying to answer all the question marks where Jesse is concerned and replaying the events of last night—and this morning—in my head like a movie all day. Every time the door chimed, I expected to see Jess, then chastised myself for it.
I’m absentmindedly wiping down my last table when I hear his voice behind me. “Hey, little girl, want some candy?”
I turn around, eyebrow lifted, to see Jesse holding a bouquet of Dum-Dums, all strawberry and butterscotch, by the looks of it. I flatten my lips to hide the smile that tries to break free.
“Sorry for bailing on breakfast. Lunch. Whatever that was.” His hair falls into his eyes, his expression mischievous. I roll my eyes, snatching the bundle of suckers. “Does that mean you forgive me?” he asks, amused.
“Nothing to forgive,” I say, feigning indifference, turning back around to finish wiping down the table.
He leans down, his front covering my back as he brings his lips close to my ear. “That’s a shame. I was hoping to make it up to you tonight.” His fingers rake up the back of my thigh, digging into my tights, and I jump away once they get to the hem of my shorts.
My eyes dart around the crowded room to make sure no one’s watching, putting a healthy distance between us. My skin is already on fire from his touch and the promise of what’s to come, but I glare at him. “What are you doing?”
“Relax. Everyone’s too drunk to notice.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then get in the fucking car so I can touch you at my leisure because it’s been eight hours since I’ve had you underneath me.” His words both thrill me and embarrass me, and I think that’s his intent. He wants to throw me off my game and watch me squirm.
I walk toward the back room to gather my stuff, intentionally taking my time. I’m just as anxious to be alone with Jess, but I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing it. When I’ve got everything, I find him waiting by the door, eyeing me with amusement—as if he knows I’m being purposely slow—with his arms folded across his chest. He pushes against the door with his back to open it, gesturing for me to go first with a flick of his chin.
“How chivalrous.”
“Chivalry’s my middle name.”
“I thought it was Cocky,” I say, rounding the corner toward the back parking lot.
“I’ll show you cocky,” he promises. Walked right into that one.
The moment we’re inside his truck with the doors closed, we both look at each other, the tension mounting between us. I wet my dry lips and his eyes follow the movement.
“Come here.” Jess lunges for me, pulling me over the middle console until I’m straddling him. His hands grip my hips, his thumbs pressing into my exposed skin where my work shirt has ridden up. My hair falls around us like a curtain as I decide to make the first move, leaning down to bring my lips to his. I tentatively lick the seam of his lips before sucking the bottom one into my mouth and giving it a light tug. Jesse groans, his fingers tightening on my hips, but he allows me to continue my exploration without making a move. I bring my hands to his face before kissing his top lip, and when I slip my tongue inside his mouth, he finally snaps into action. Our noses mash together as he kisses me back in full force. Our bodies start moving to a rhythm of their own, nothing but the sound of our harsh breathing in the quiet cocoon of his truck.
Jess dips his hands under my shirt, his warm palms sliding against my skin. He stops just south of where I need him to touch me, but not going any farther. I squirm in his lap, wanting more. Always needing more. Even in a public parking lot, apparently. My nipples tighten painfully, and I pull back, pouting.
“What’s wrong, Allie Girl?” he taunts, lips glistening, as he pushes my shirt up to expose my black mesh bra that does nothing to hide my current state of arousal.
“Stop playing with me,” I demand, but it comes out sounding more like a petulant whine.
“Never,” he says before leaning forward to catch my nipple between his teeth over the thin material of my bra.
“Jess,” I breathe, letting my head fall back as my hips rock into him. One of his hands holds me in place by my ribs and the other one slides down my back toward the gap in the waistband of my shorts. When he sucks me through my bra, wetness pools between my legs. I’ve never felt this with anyone, and now that we’ve started this little game, I can’t seem to think of anything else.