Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
It became this tightness in my chest, this pressure on my lower stomach, this throbbing sensation between my thighs.
Cary’s teeth nipped my lower lip, seeking entrance that I immediately gave him. I was too consumed in the sensations assaulting my body all at once to even begin to overthink it.
I just wanted to feel it.
I wanted to know more of it.
I wanted him to show me.
I’d been almost painfully aware of the fact that something had always been “missing” for me when it came to intimacy. There was something my body hinted at, but never fully experienced.
Years.
I’d been in my marriage for years without any of it.
I’d been happy with Raúl for a long time without getting more than a hint of it.
But with Cary? Within seconds of contact, my body seemed to ignite with this new sort of knowledge, this acute sort of need I’d never known before.
His tongue moved inside to claim mine as I pressed my thighs tightly together in an attempt to ease the ache growing there.
Cary’s arms grabbed me, shifting me until I was straddling his waist. Both his hands moved, framing the sides of my face as he deepend the kiss.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt as fully, I don’t know, ‘claimed’ as I felt right an that moment.
Even if it was just for that moment, I decided nothing had ever felt quite as good as being his.
My arms lifted, slipping around the back of his neck, and folding there as I pressed into his chest.
A low, mewling noise escaped me as my breasts—heavier than usual and overly sensitive—pressed to his firm chest.
I barely resisted the urge to reach up and rip off my top, wanting more than anything to feel my bare breasts against his heated skin, to feel his hands roaming over me without any barrier.
Cary’s hands had just moved from my neck and down to my shoulders when there was a sudden pounding on the door that had us both jolting and flying apart.
Panic gripped my system as Cary seemed to struggle for a second to shift from kissing to action.
He’d just turned to reach for the gun on his nightstand when a voice called through the door.
“Let me in. I brought donuts. They’re kind of stale, but, y’know, edible.”
“Dezi?” I whispered.
“The fuck are you doing here?” Cary growled.
It was the first time I’d ever heard him be anything other than kind and patient. It made no sense, but the fierceness in his voice only made the throbbing between my thighs intensify.
“Welp. It appears I’m a little drunk,” Dezi called through the door even as we heard him stumble and slam into the door. “And the clubhouse is far, far away,” he added, slurring a bit.
Cary’s gaze slid to mine like he was looking for permission.
“You have to let him in,” I whispered, even as I worried that the desire flooding my system would be too clearly etched on my face.
“What’s the matter?” Cary asked after letting out a sigh and making his way to the door. “Couldn’t find a woman to go home with?” he asked, pulling it open to reveal a wobbly Dezi who was holding a crushed donut box to his chest.
“I’d hardly be doing my best work in this condition,” Dezi declared, giving Cary a bleary-eyed smile. “I couldn’t do that to a lady. I have a reputation to uphold, you know,” he added, nodding slowly, and I swear he almost fell asleep on the downward motion of said nod.
“Christ, how much did you drink?” Cary asked, trying to wrestle the donut box out of Dezi’s hold, but he was clutching it like a security blanket.
“Hey, not my fault there was a divorce party,” he said, shaking his head solemnly. “No one drinks as hard as a newly single woman and her pack of chicks who never liked the asshole she’d married in the first place. We did a crawl.”
“Crawl being the operative word,” Cary agreed, wrapping an arm around his stumbling friend and pulling him into the room. “Sit,” he demanded, pushing him onto his bed.
“Bed. Good,” Dezi agreed, kicking out of his shoes, then climbing up fully, still holding his box of donuts.
Cary’s gaze slid to mine, showing both amusement and resignation.
Then there was a crash that had us both whipping our heads over to see Dezi had fallen off the bed.
“Floor’s good too,” he murmured as he rolled onto his side, tucked his donut box under his face like a pillow, and promptly passed out.
And, well, that was that, wasn’t it?
It wasn’t like we could continue on with Dezi right there a couple feet away.
Maybe it was for the best, anyway.
It was only going to muddy things between us.
At least, that was what I was trying to tell myself as I tried to fall back to sleep.