Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
“What are you doing?” she whispers.
There’s something in her tone. It’s as if she knows what I’m doing and doesn’t completely disapprove.
“Jamie?” she murmurs.
Stop. There’s a voice in my head. Maybe my sister’s, maybe his. Maybe fate. I don’t know, but it’s telling me to stop, and I should listen, but I keep walking right up to her.
“You don’t have any idea how beautiful you are, do you?”
She bites down and gets all wide-eyed again.
“I can tell by looking at you. You don’t know how perfect you are when you pout or run a hand through your messy hair. You don’t know how difficult it’s been for me to stop myself from kissing you.”
“Jamie,” she whispers, and I can’t tell if she’s going to ask me to kiss her or stop.
It’s too late. I lean in and press my lips against hers. There’s a brief moment of hesitation, as if she knows she shouldn’t let her dad’s killer do this, but then I feel her responding. Her body shifts against mine, breasts rubbing against me.
I groan as our mouths open, tasting her, experiencing her warmth, want, hunger, need, everything. My hands glide down her hips, and that’s when I know I will wake up on the couch, but no. This is real. I squeeze onto her hips, claiming her curviness.
“Don’t do that,” she whispers, leaning back and staring at me.
“Why?” I growl, claiming her hips harder.
“Do you… like it?” she whispers. “Touching me there?”
“Don’t you?”
“I do, but…”
Suddenly, I get what she’s aiming at. She thinks her juicy, perfectly thick hips are something to be ashamed of. With a groan, I hold them even tighter, pulling her right up against me so she can feel the solid outline of my dick.
“You can feel how badly I want you,” I groan. “You can feel how hot this makes me. You make me. You’re curvy in the best way, Lucy. You’re not allowed to doubt that when I’m around.”
She blinks, a rush of emotion claiming her features. She looks like she wants to celebrate, then she leans forward. She initiates the kiss. I snarl as we sink back into the kiss. Her tongue darts around my mouth excitedly, like my woman doesn’t have much experience. That’s what I hope, what I need. She’s just mine: every inch, every breath, every experience.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she gasps, her hands clawing against my back. “You know that, right? After what you did?”
“I know.” I lean down and brush my lips against her cheek. “It’s wrong. Maybe there’s something wrong with us, but I can’t stop.”
I smooth my hands around to her ass, then push against her, guiding her toward the bed. Stop, the voice says again, but I can’t. No, that’s not fair. That’s pushing away responsibility. The truth is, I won’t.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Lucy
I feel intoxicated as he massages my ass, guiding me back to the bed. His body is even more solid than I knew it would be, every inch swelling with muscle, his manhood pushing against my belly as though eager to start a life together right away. We laugh together when I fall backward onto the bed—another impossibility to be laughing with my father’s killer. He’s a vast silhouette in the darkness, his blue eyes gleaming.
“You’re so damn perfect,” he says huskily, the words I’ve always dreamed of hearing from him in my darkest, most hidden fantasies. “I need you, Lucy.”
This is not the time for me to get ahead of myself. He’s saying I need you in this situation, not forever, not for a family or a future. I can’t let myself get carried away.
He climbs onto the bed on top of me, returning his lips to mine. As we kiss, he slides his hand up my thigh, his touch hot against my bare skin. The closer he gets to my sex, the more nerves try to throttle me and convince me I’m not good enough. I will make a fool of myself if we keep going, but the hunger within won’t let me stop.
“Ah, ah,” I gasp when he pushes his hand against my shorts, grinding against my pussy through the material. “J-Jamie.” I’m not even sure why I’m saying his name. Do I want him to stop or keep going? Do I want us to keep going?
He lets out a shuddering breath, rubbing firmer, making my clit ache as we try to keep kissing. The sudden rush of pleasure makes it difficult, our teeth clicking as I draw lust-laden breaths.
“I can feel how wet you are,” he groans, grabbing my shorts. “Your young pussy is fucking soaked for me.”
I hold on to his tone and the word young. He uses it as though he likes my age, as though the twenty-two-year gap doesn’t have to cause any problems.
He pulls my shorts down just enough, then pushes his hand between my legs, rubbing my naked pussy. Nerves can’t affect this moment, even if I know what’s coming next. All I can focus on is the pleasure bursting through me as his hot, killer hand grinds against my clit and up and down my folds.