Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
It’s the kind of kiss that immediately has my toes curling inside my boots. It’s urgent and hot and hard, weeks of pent-up frustration finally let loose. I close my eyes and move with him. His lips are soft but eager as he drinks me in, hard, thirsty pulls that demand surrender.
And, oh, am I all too happy to surrender. The soft, slick feel of his mouth gliding over mine draws a moan from the back of my throat. My hands fist in his shirt. His other hand moves from the small of my back to my side, his thumb brushing the underside of my breast. A bolt of lust cracks down my middle, fast and loud as lightning.
He opens his mouth and licks into my own, urging my lips apart. I rise into the kiss and taste him. My hand moves up to his neck. He groans when I dig my fingertips into the hair at his nape. I give it a tug.
He bites my bottom lip. Scrapes his beard against my cheek. I’m definitely going to have beard burn tomorrow, but I don’t care.
The hunger I saw in his eyes is very much alive in his kiss. I love it.
Bursts of neon light streak across the backs of my closed eyelids. My pulse thunders, my entire being lighting up as he firms his grip on my waist. His thumb arcs over the swell of my breast and moves across my nipple. At the same time, he ducks his head and kisses my neck—God, I love neck kisses—and I gasp, arching into his touch.
He lets out a low, sinister chuckle, his breath hot on my skin. “How much of a brute you want me to be, honey?”
“We’re in a bathroom.” I give his hair another tug. “At a bar.”
He sinks his teeth into my jaw. “No one’s comin’ in.”
“Everyone knows we’re in here. Everyone knows what we’re doing.”
“We better do it quick, then.”
Before I know what’s happening, he’s sliding his hands down my sides. He’s roughly pulling up my skirt. It bunches around my waist as he lifts me onto the sink, the porcelain cold against the backs of my bare thighs.
He shoves my knees apart and steps between them. His crotch meets with my center, and I roll my hips, my body starving for the friction. He’s doing that thing where he takes my face in his hand and he leans in, tilting his head. The sinews in his thick neck pop against his skin.
And then another kiss. He tastes clean, a hint of tequila on his breath. His tongue finds mine, and suddenly we’re a frenzied tangle of mouths, breaths, bodies.
The feel of him between my legs is everything.
“Can you be quiet?” he grunts.
“Why don’t you find out?”
I slide a hand inside his shirt. His stomach caves, abdominal muscles contracting into hard ridges beneath my palm.
Can’t help it. I laugh.
“What?” He’s nipping at my earlobe now.
“Your body.” I bite his neck, opening my eyes. “It’s laughably hot.”
Cash meets my gaze and runs a hand up my thigh. “Could say the same about yours. Only I ain’t laughin’.”
“What’re you gonna do instead?”
In reply, he lifts his hand and turns his head and spits onto his fingertips.
I jump at the sound. It’s rude, the gesture even ruder.
It might also be the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed.
Now he’s reaching between us, reaching between my legs. He presses the pad of his thumb against my underwear.
Another dark chuckle. “May not even need this, huh, honey?”
“Maybe no—oh.”
He hooks his thumb into my underwear and tugs them aside. Then he’s using those spit-covered fingertips to part me.
His spit feels warm on my pussy. His kiss is even warmer, his tongue stroking into my mouth as he strokes me between my legs. I want to howl when he dips a blunt fingertip into my entrance, gathering more moisture there before spreading it upward.
My hips punch forward when he hits my clit. I’m already this close to coming.
“Cash,” I breathe. “Oh my God.”
He grunts. “No shit, honey. You’re soaked. For me.”
“For you.”
I bite back a cry when his fingers fall away from where I want him most. But then he’s tearing off my underwear and sinking to his knees, and holy Christ, he’s going down on me.
“Look at this pretty pussy,” he says. “Perfect. So fucking perfect, Mollie. I fuckin’ hate that you kept this from me for so long.”
I don’t have time to protest. I don’t want to protest. I just knock off his hat and grab his hair and pull him against me.
His turn to laugh. The sound vibrates through my pussy as he grabs my thighs and leans in. I nearly convulse when he gathers my clit in his lips and sucks, the pressure there coiling tight to the point of pain.
His mustache tickles me just where I want him.