Total pages in book: 211
Estimated words: 201554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1008(@200wpm)___ 806(@250wpm)___ 672(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 201554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1008(@200wpm)___ 806(@250wpm)___ 672(@300wpm)
Finally, I think.
Finally.
I lean forward into him, my fingers lacing around his neck. His hand settles between my shoulder blades, fingers splayed wide and he molds me close. “God, I could live inside you, woman,” he murmurs. “What the hell are you doing to me?”
“Nothing you aren’t doing to me,” I whisper, “and as for living inside me —yes. Please,” but we still don’t move, we don’t kiss. We just breathe each other in, savor this one moment that can never be repeated, that can never be this exact instant ever again.
I ease back just enough to press my hands to his shoulders, and with that one act, sparks fire between us. His hand cups my head and our lips collide, in a ravenous kiss, my fingers diving into his hair, tangling roughly, desperately, in the silky strands.
Eric growls low in his throat and thrusts into me, pulling me hard against him. I breathe out against his mouth, gasp with the sensations he rockets through my entire body. And then we’re swaying together, slow and sexy, sensual kisses, and caresses, guiding us to what feels like the next impossibly wickedly extreme.
I don’t want this to end, but my body is on edge, the tension building, and I can feel myself growing frenzied. As if feeding off my urgency, his thrusts become deeper and harder, and I cannot hold back. I’m rocking against him, grinding my hips, seeking that sweet spot, and hiding from it at the same time.
But there is no hiding.
His cock is too hard, too deep, too absolutely perfect.
Suddenly I’m there, in that place of no return, my body squeezing him, spasming, rocking me to the point that I literally quake, and burying my face in his shoulder. His arm wraps my waist, and he lifts his hips, pumping into me, a guttural, almost animalistic sound sliding from him, his body shuddering with his release.
We collapse into each other, our breaths labored, our bodies sated and heavy, and for long seconds, we just lay there, as if we are both afraid or unwilling to move. The first sign of life is his fingers flexing where they rest on my head. “I want things from you that I shouldn’t want,” he murmurs softly.
I suck in a soft breath, surprised and pleased by this announcement, but also aware of just how complicated it is as well.
I lift myself up and meet his tormented stare. Oh yes. We are so very complicated, two damaged people, who’ve come together, who are found in each other. But that doesn’t mean we won’t destroy each other in the process. And maybe that’s what he’s trying to tell me. “Is this your way of telling you’re going to make me hate you?”
He catches a strand of my hair and drags it through his fingers. “I hope like fuck not.”
His cellphone rings and I’m aware of what I wasn’t aware of while we were in the throes of passion. “It’s been ringing. You have to get it. Your deal and Grayson—”
He rotates me and lays me down on my back on the couch. “Grayson will understand. Get dressed. I want out of this hotel room and in your bed, at least until I can get you in mine, where you belong.” He pulls out of me and sits up, leaving me a bit stunned.
His bed?
I’m not sure what to do with that, considering his bed is in New York City, and yes, I can visit him, but then what?
I sit up, and grab a blanket, wrapping it around me. “I won’t leave my mom behind. You need to know that.”
He walks to a trashcan, sheds the condom and then reaches for his pants, pulling his phone from inside, reading a message before he pulls on his pants. “We’ll talk about it.”
“No,” I say standing up, that comment reading like another play for control. “We won’t.” I grab my tee and tug it over my head, but when I would reach for my pants, he pulls me around to face him.
“We’ll make sure your mother’s safe,” he says. “We’ll protect her. I promise you.”
My eyes go wide. “Safe? What does that mean? Are you talking about protecting her from a lawsuit? Or is this more than that? Is she in danger?”
“Let’s get dressed and talk.”
My heart races and then dodges and weaves. “Eric, damn it, is she in danger?”
“Put on your clothes, Harper.”
He releases me, snatches up my pants and hands them to me. “Get dressed.”
He grabs his T-shirt, and puts it on, but not before I note the tensions knotted in his broad shoulders. I decide I need to be dressed, too, just like he said. Dressed equals control and right now, I feel like I have none. Trying to gather my emotion, I give him my back and pull on my pants but somehow, we manage to sit on the couch at the same time, side by side, to lace our shoes. We don’t look at each other, we don’t touch, but I’m so aware of him, it’s unnerving. His energy, his smell, his dark mood.