Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 62620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
“But what if I like torture?” I ask, sliding my fingers through the empty belt loop on the side of his jeans and giving a gentle tug.
He resists, pushing his hands into the bar on either side of me, making the muscles in his forearms flex deliciously. I suddenly want to lick every sexy ridge of those arms. And the cord standing out along the side of his neck and his tight jaw and most especially, his lips.
Those plush, full, oh-so-bitable lips, I’ve been dying to feel on mine…
“Stop,” he breathes.
“Stop what?”
“Stop looking at me like you want me to fuck you against this bar,” he says, dealing the final blow to my poor soaked panties.
“But I do,” I whisper. “You know I do. But you told me to find someone else. You can’t have it both ways, Christian. You can’t tell me no and still think you get a say in who I invite to sleep over.”
“You can’t invite Theo to sleep over at Barrett’s,” he counters. “You’re housesitting. You have responsibilities, and Kyle and Keanu would be pissed.”
“Kyle and Keanu love spending time in the backyard in the nice fall weather, but they won’t be an issue tonight. Theo already invited me over to his house after the banquet.”
The heat that flares in Christian’s gaze is different than anything I’ve seen there before. It takes me a beat to realize he’s angry. Really angry.
The kind of angry that makes men do dumb things.
I reach out with my free hand, fisting my hand in his pale blue t-shirt. “Don’t hurt him. He’s your cousin.”
“I’m not going to hurt him,” he practically growls as he moves close enough for his hips to flatten the front of my skirt. “I’m going to tell him to back the fuck off because I have it on good authority that you have multiple STDs.”
I tip my head back, breath coming faster as my lips nearly brush his. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.” His hands shift from the bar to my waist, wrenching a soft moan from low in my throat. “Just stay away from people I’m related to. If I have to think about Theo or any other McGuire inside you, I’m going to lose my damned mind.”
“Why?” I say, the longing for his lips on mine becoming almost painful. “If you don’t want me, why do you care so much?”
“I never said I didn’t want you,” he says, his hands molding to my ribs just below my breasts, making my breath come faster. “I said it wasn’t a good idea. And it’s still not. We’re family, we’re connected for life. If you decide you hate me after, this bad decision will haunt us both forever.”
“I’m not going to hate you,” I say. “I could never hate you. Just like you could never hate me.” I lift my chin, stretching my neck until our lips are a whisper apart. “Right?”
“No, I could never hate you,” he says. “But I could hurt you, even without meaning to. And…you could hurt me.”
The words make my heart bust into a soprano solo worthy of an opera star. Because he sounded like he meant them. Like he really thinks I could hurt him, which means…
Well, I’m not entirely certain what it means, but I know it makes me feel about a thousand times more confident as I slide my hands up to grip his biceps through his shirt. “I won’t hurt you, Chris, I promise. And if I did, I’d do whatever it took to make things better again. You’re my friend. At the end of the day, when all the sex mentoring is done, that’s the most important thing to me.”
“It’s important to me, too,” he says. “But if we cross that line, things will be different.”
“They don’t have to be.” My breath hitches as his hands slide higher still, until he’s practically cupping my breasts through my dress. “We could take precautions to make sure they’re not.”
“Precautions?” he murmurs, the tip of his nose skimming the tip of mine, making my head spin. “What kind of precautions?”
“I don’t know,” I say, my fingers digging into his muscled arms. “I’m having a hard time thinking straight right now because I want you so much. But if I had time to think away from your sex vibe, I bet I could come up with something.”
“No sex in the house,” he says, his lips brushing against mine ever so slightly.
But even the hint of a kiss is nearly enough to make me pass out.
Or maybe it’s the corset.
Either way, I’m grateful for the steady presence of the bar behind me and Christian’s hands tight around my ribs.
“If we don’t have sex in my house or your house,” he continues, hovering, brushing, tormenting me with near-kisses, “then we won’t have to worry about any memories hanging around, haunting us when we’re trying to get on with our lives.”