Briggs (Carolina Reapers #7) Read Online Samantha Whiskey

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Carolina Reapers Series by Samantha Whiskey
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Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
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“Bristol,” he cut me off, and the gravelly sound of his voice sent warm shivers racing down my spine.

“What?” I snapped, breathless.

“You’re not alone now, either,” he said, and then his mouth was on mine.

5

Cormac

I wasn’t sure exactly what had happened. One minute I was telling Bristol that the only relationship between us was the one on paper, and the next, I was kissing the hell out of her. Damn, she tasted like sweet, sparkling wine, and reckless decisions.

God…Bristol.

She gasped, and my tongue swept over her lips as they parted—

Wait. What the fuck was I doing?

I yanked my head back and sucked in a breath, wishing I could blame my lack of judgment on hypoxia, but the need blazing through my veins like an inferno claimed otherwise. I wanted her. I’d always wanted her. Damn it.

My heart slammed against my ribs. I didn’t even have to think about touching her—my hands were simply there, already cradling her face. We were like magnets, and the attraction hadn’t dulled with time…or anger. If anything, it had only grown stronger.

“Cormac?” Bristol whispered, her hands fisting in the material of my shirt.

Those fucking eyes. So beautiful. My chest clenched even as my cock swelled.

I couldn’t do this, couldn’t fling myself off the Bristol McClaren cliff damn-well knowing there was only a rocky, crushing reception at the bottom. But fuck, she tasted just as incredible as I remembered, and those lips—

I didn’t leave myself wanting more and more and more for years. Her confession echoed in my head. She’d wanted more, just like I had. But I hadn’t lied—she hadn’t been alone in that pool room four years ago, and she wasn’t alone now.

Bristol wasn’t seventeen anymore. She was a fully grown woman.

And I wasn’t the star-eyed rookie who’d just worked himself out of poverty.

But I still wanted her.

Fuck it.

I backed her against the wall and crushed my mouth to hers, thrusting my tongue between those cherry-red lips and sinking deep. She groaned, and the sound was like flame to tinder—my body ignited.

“You wanted more?” I asked against her mouth, sliding a hand to the generous curve of her hip.

She whimpered, her teeth grazing my bottom lip. When she leaned in for another kiss, I drew back my head, just out of range. “Cormac,” she demanded, yanking my shirt.

“Tell me.” I let my lips drift over her jaw, and she tilted her head back against the wall, leaving her neck deliciously bare to my kisses. “Tell me what you wanted, Bristol.” I sucked on a patch of skin just beneath her jaw, and she gasped. “I wanted you just like this.” I slid my hand to her ass and squeezed.

Fuck, the woman had the most delectable ass on the planet.

“I wanted your hands in my hair and your legs around my waist.” I trailed a path to her collarbone and her hips rocked against mine. “I wanted to kiss every curve and lick every hollow on your body.”

“Oh my God,” she breathed, her nails digging into the back of my neck.

“I wanted to see what color your eyes turned when you came.” I nipped her lower lip with my teeth and slipped my hand to the back of her thigh, lifting it so my cock settled between her thighs. “I wanted to hear how my name sounded while you screamed it in pleasure.”

She rocked forward, her breasts pressing against my chest as I ghosted my mouth over hers.

“Say it. Don’t hide behind the heat of the moment. You and I both know this doesn’t mean anything between us, but if you want me to kiss you, you’d better damn well say it, Duchess.”

Her eyes blazed fire up at me, but then her gaze dropped to my lips. “Fine. This doesn’t mean anything. I want you to kiss me, Cormac.”

The tether I’d kept on my control snapped, and I kissed her like my life depended on it. I explored every line of her mouth, and then I sucked her tongue into my mouth so she could do the same.

She whimpered, then gave just as good as she got, our tongues sliding and caressing as the kiss went on and on.

Just this once. One time to kiss her, to taste her, to prove to myself that I’d romanticized the connection between us all those years ago. There was no way our bodies had melted together. No way our chemistry had been that explosive. And there was no fucking way she’d stripped every ounce of my restraint and left me shaken.

Except that’s exactly what was happening again.

One fucking kiss and I was harder than steel, straining against my denim. Or was it more than one kiss? Our lips had come together so many times that I lost count, taking her mouth over and over again. I didn’t just kiss the woman—I claimed every inch of her mouth as mine. Her neck, too.



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