Total pages in book: 183
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
“You left. Not me. I didn’t want you to leave.”
“I know that very well, but that’s not the point.”
She’s right. It’s not. “The point is,” I say for her, because it’s true. “I’m an asshole.”
“Right now. Yes. Yes, you really are.”
I cup her face and I’m honest with her in a way I have never been honest with anyone but myself. “I’m sorry. I overreacted to this. I overreacted to Lance at the party. I don’t overreact.”
“Maybe that makes me bad for you, like poison that—”
“No,” I say. “That’s not it. I just don’t want to be out here on this ledge alone, feeling what I’m feeling.”
Her hands come down on my wrist. “You’re not alone,” she says. “In fact, I’m the one holding on to you so I don’t fall over the edge while everything you do pushes me a little closer. We were both wrong tonight, but it hasn’t changed anything. I still want to be on the ledge with you.”
I cup her face and kiss her, and just that easily I’m back to drinking her in, needing her, wanting her in this deep, cutting way that says I would bleed for this woman. I don’t tell her that I will bleed for her. I don’t tell her that I will cross lines to protect her. I wouldn’t do it for anyone else. I haven’t done it for anyone else but her. For her I would do just about anything.
I drag her dress down and unhook her bra. I have this deep need for control right now that I force myself to contain to a reasonable level of demand. I drag my fingers over her nipples, my gaze following, and with a dip of my head, my tongue comes next. Her moan says the tongue wins for most appreciated. I use my teeth, a gentle scrape of her nipple, followed by a lave of my tongue, and her fingers slicing into my hair say my teeth drive her wild. I suckle her nipple and drag the bra straps over her shoulders, down her arms. She grabs my shirt and tries to yank it open, buttons and all. It doesn’t budge.
We both laugh, and she blushes a pretty, sexy pink. “In my tequila-laden mind that went differently.”
“Like the tequila made you call me an asshole downstairs?” I tease.
“The tequila kept me from saying it sooner.”
“Is that right?” I unbutton a couple of buttons and pull my shirt over my head. Before it ever hits the ground, she’s wrapped her arms around me, and pressed those gloriously naked breasts against me, skin to skin.
That’s all it takes to ignite a frenzied rush of kissing, touching, all over each other. I manage to unzip the rest of her dress, and I turn her to the door, pressing her hands to the wall. I skim it down her hips and now I have my answer. She’s wearing black lace panties. I wind my fingers in the tiny black lace straps at her hips and pull them down.
My arm wraps her lower body and I lift her, scoop away her dress and panties, and when I set her down, I stand, giving her a gentle but definitely present smack on the backside. She yelps and I pull her against me, her back to my chest, my hands cupping her breasts, lips near her ear. “That’s for making me suffer downstairs, wondering if you were sitting next to Savage wearing no fucking panties.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” she whispers, inside a half moan, as I tug roughly on her nipples.
“But you wanted me to wonder, didn’t you?”
“I wanted you to do something other than sit there and scowl at me.”
I turn around and press her against the wall. “You want me to do more?” I challenge.
“Yes, Cole. More.”
“Don’t even think about coming without me or I will spank you right here, with them down there. I should spank you for teasing me with your panties.”
I lower myself to my knees with one goal in mind: Making her come.
Chapter forty-three
Cole
Still on my knees in front of Lori, I press my lips to her belly. She gives a choked laugh. “I can already tell you that I’m going to come, but, Cole?”
There is something in her voice and I look up at her. “Yes?”
“Don’t spank me here. Not here. It doesn’t feel private.”
I kiss her belly again. “Not here,” I agree, more than satisfied with the fact that she hasn’t told me no. Just not here. I lick her clit and stand up, my fingers pressing against the wet heat of her sex. “Come on my fingers,” I say, my lips next to her lips. “Then on my cock.” I kiss her, and slip two fingers inside her. She’s wet, and hot, and she pants into my mouth in that sexy, sweet, way she does. The more I lick into her mouth, the more I stroke her, and the more she arches into me. Her prediction is right, and it’s all of about sixty seconds before she stiffens and her orgasm quakes my fingers and her body. It’s abrupt and over far too quickly.