Coldhearted Boss Read online R.S. Grey

Categories Genre: New Adult, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
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“Y’know, it’s funny,” he begins. “I knew why Tanner was all over you today and yet I couldn’t seem to rationalize how angry it made me. Maybe it’s because I know there are a million men just like him, swarming around you for reasons that have nothing to do with making another woman jealous.” His eyes meet mine. “I won’t stand in line, waiting for my turn.”

I wet my lips and wait for words, but words don’t seem good enough anymore. He made the first move earlier, so it’s my turn now. I won’t let this rare confessional lead to another dead end. I won’t wake up frustrated and hot in that cabin, alone and angry about it.

I walk around the fire as he watches me and when I reach the edge of his blanket, I kick off my sandals and continue up onto the soft fabric until I’m standing right in front of him. With the fire behind me, I cast him in shadow.

I’ve come to him willingly, all but on hands and knees, and I know from the smolder in his gaze that he’s going to reward me for it. His hand reaches out and wraps around my left ankle then he slowly drags his palm up around my calf, behind my knee, and then higher, spanning the back of my thigh. Goose bumps bloom across my skin. I reach down to trace the contours of his jaw and cheek, letting my fingers glide into his thick hair just as his catch on the outer edge of my panties.

His thumb hooks inside them and he tugs them higher, revealing the bottom curve of my butt before he smooths his hand around and across my hip bone. Again, the material of my panties bunches up under his firm grasp, but he leaves it there, hiked up so it covers me—barely—as he continues his exploration of my body.

He gathers my t-shirt like a drape and pushes it up, revealing my taut stomach, which is quivering under his heavy gaze. I will myself to calm down, to stop shaking, but he’s seeing so much of me, even more as he pushes my shirt higher and reveals the bottom curves of my full breasts.

There’s too much to feel at once: the warmth of the fire behind me, the cool breeze blowing off the lake, the rough possessive way his hands heat my skin.

We’re still in a safe zone. Nothing has been revealed beyond what he’d see if I were in a skimpy bikini, but I’m scared of where we’ll go from here, scared to be on display so openly while he’s still cloaked in shadow. That’s when I realize he’s staying down there on purpose, as if kneeling before me, showing me rather than telling me he’s surrendering.

His hand curves around my ribcage so reverently my knees buckle, and it’s just as well because I want to be down there with him. I want to feel his broad tan chest, still bare from a day at the lake. His swim trunks are long dry and their cool material brushes against my panties as I nestle myself down onto his lap. I’m barely there for a moment before his hand slides around my back and he brings me in for a hug.

A hug.

An embrace that crushes me against him so tightly I think his toned arms might break me in two.

My eyes squeeze closed as I bury my face in the crook of his neck and breathe him in like I’m trying to absorb him through the air, but it’s not enough. I need more. I press a chaste kiss to his neck then one below his smooth jaw, and I’m about to press another kiss to his cheek when a growl escapes from deep in his chest and he yanks me back, sealing our mouths together.

A kiss that starts out hard and heavy only grows hotter. Scorching. His mouth slants over mine and I’m a hungry little minx—clawing at his skin, biting his lip, writhing against him.

His tongue touches mine and my entire body seems to clench in response.

Our kiss is unending and I can feel his hard length underneath me and I don’t sit still like I should. I brush back and forth along him as if I’m giving him a seductive lap dance. It works me up, moving on him like this, finally giving in to the urge to touch him like I’ve wanted to for all these weeks.

My hands are everywhere, roving over the ridge of hard muscle along his shoulders, sliding down his toned arms until our hands meet, warm palm against warm palm, our fingers entwining. He kisses me deeper as he squeezes once and then he lets go so his strong hands can move over my body, feeling my curves with greedy possession.



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